i write stuff. if you wish to know more, you can click on “about kenneth suna.”


New front desk phones! A generous gift from Corporate. Our new phones came with laminated phone scripts detailing how to properly respond to a call: "Good evening and thank you for calling The Gym! My name is Kenneth. How may I provide you with excellent service today?"

Of course, the first call that came in when I was on duty was from, who else? A crazy person.

What I didn't know is that the phone had a malfunction that caused a five second delay in response from the caller. After regurgitating the script, I waited a moment. Nothing.

"Hello?" I asked. 

"Who the fuck is this?" The voice on the other end of the line wanted to know.

"Excuse me?"

"WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?" The voice screamed.

I hesitated, giving him the exact ammunition he needed. "Stop. Calling. This. Number. And STOP FUCKING MY WIFE. What is your god damn name?"

"My name is Kenneth, but --"

"But nothing. I checked her phone records and this number pops up every couple of days at the same fucking time. Stop ruining my family!" 

"Sir," I said. "You've called The Gym. Is it possible that your wife is a member here? Or maybe she inquired about a membership? Our sales consultants can be relentless."

Silence. And then confirmation that his wife was indeed a member of The Gym. And now it made sense, because she had a personal trainer, too, and was "always running late for something. That must've been who was calling her every couple of days around the same ... time."