The Fran Lebowitz Reader (31 page)

SPRING

Rumored to be a season separating winter and summer, spring is, in New York, a rather mythical figure, and as such attracts a slightly rarefied crowd. Around April, art directors and aesthetic realists begin shedding their sweaters, and very constructed young men start to plan next autumn’s colors. Property values on eastern Long Island rise sharply (see white people), while the level of reason and good will recedes from the banks.

Newsstands become more delicately tinged as magazine covers once again sport their seasonal pastel look and the word “relationship” is in the air, although fortunately not in the water.

Along about May, movie agents in Los Angeles begin to turn green while on the telephone to their literary counterparts and as one fly East to negotiate. Shortly after their arrival they will begin to lose their tans, but this will compel them to leave before even the rawest novice can think that it’s autumn.

SUMMER

Although the most hard-nosed element maintains that summer is that time which is not winter, it technically describes the interval between spring and autumn, and most quickly manifests itself by a luxuriant growth in Con Edison bills.
The air becomes more visible, and a great many adults, stunned by the bountiful harvest of roving street gangs and sidewalk domino players, forget that they look terrible in shorts. Daylight-saving time blossoms once more and is welcomed heartily by insomniacs who now have less night to be up all of.

Wits thicken, urban flesh turns a vivid gray and the word “relationship” is in the water, but not, fortunately, in the city.

INTRODUCTION

Uppermost in your mind should be the fact that as a Directory Assistance Operator your job is to serve the public. You must be helpful and courteous, of course, but serving the public is a grave responsibility and consists of a good deal more than might be immediately apparent. Give them the number, sure, but it must be remembered that the public is made up largely of people, and that people have needs far beyond mere telephone numbers. Modern life is such that the public has come to rely rather heavily on convenience, often forgetting the value and rewards of difficult, sustained
labor. The human animal has an instinctive need for challenge, and you, as a Directory Assistance Operator, can be instrumental in reintroducing this factor to the lives of your charges. So serve the public, by all means, but do not make the mistake of thinking that serving the public compels you to indulge its every whim—for that, future Directory Assistance Operator, would be not only an error in perception but also a tacit admission of irresponsibility.

LESSON ONE: IS THAT A BUSINESS OR A RESIDENCE?

When a member of the public (henceforth to be referred to as the Caller) asks you for a number, do not even think about looking it up before you have inquired in a pleasant yet firm tone of voice, “Is that a business or a residence?” This procedure is never to be omitted, for doing so would display an improper and quite unforgivable presumptuousness on your part. Just because the Russian Tea Room doesn’t sound like someone’s name to
you
doesn’t mean that it isn’t. Americans
often
have strange names, a fact that has no doubt come to your attention no matter how short a time you may have been in our country.

LESSON TWO: DO YOU HAVE THE ADDRESS?

This lesson is of primary importance as it serves a twofold purpose. The first of these is to facilitate the process of finding the number in cases where there are many parties with the same name. Note that this is not the case in the aforementioned Russian Tea Room, who seems, poor man, to have no living relatives, at least not in Manhattan. The second and more important reason for asking this question
is to make certain that the Caller is really interested in the
telephone number
, and is not imposing on your time and energy in a sneaky attempt to weasel out of you, the Directory Assistance Operator, an exact street address. You are, after all, employed by the New York Telephone Company, and are not under any circumstances to allow yourself to be badly used by some larcenous Caller trying to pull a fast one.

LESSON THREE: COULD YOU SPELL THAT, PLEASE?

The Caller will frequently respond to this query with an audible and unpleasant sigh, or in extreme cases an outright expletive. Ignore him absolutely. You are just doing your job, and anyway, what good reason could he possibly have for wanting to telephone someone whose name he won’t or can’t even spell?

LESSON FOUR: IS THAT “B” AS IN BOY?

In recent times this traditional, even classic, question has presented a rather touchy problem. Marches have been marched, laws have been passed, rights have been won. The sensitivity of the average member of the Third World has been heightened to the point where asking, no matter how respectfully, “Is that ‘B’ as in boy?” is apt to provoke an unseemly response. But since it is quite impossible, no matter how empathetic one may be, to logically inquire, “Is that ‘B’ as in man?,” the modern Directory Assistance Operator is pretty much on her own here. Do, however, avoid “Is that ‘B’ as in black?” because you can never tell these days. And times being what they are, male Directory Assistance Operators
assisting female callers are cautioned strongly against even thinking of risking, “Is that ‘B’ as in baby?”

LESSON FIVE: YOU CAN FIND THAT NUMBER LISTED IN YOUR DIRECTORY

This last procedure, coming as it does at the end of your long, often stressful association with the Caller, is the one most commonly neglected, particularly by the novice. Its importance should, however, not be underestimated, as it is well known that last impressions are lasting impressions. The Directory Assistance Operator is, as has been frequently illustrated in this manual, subjected to every sort of unattractive and condescending human behavior. “You can find that number listed in your directory” is your opportunity to establish once and for all that the Directory Assistance Operator is nobody’s fool. “You can find that number listed in your directory” lets the Caller know, in no uncertain terms, that you have no intention of being pushed around by
anyone
, let alone anyone who, it seems, cannot even read the telephone book. So, for heaven’s sake, never forget “You can find that number listed in your directory.” It gets them every time.

ADDENDUM: HAVE A NICE DAY

The truly dedicated Directory Assistance Operator never fails to conclude the call with a sprightly rendition of “Have a nice day.” “Have a nice day” is the perfect parting shot, not only because it shows once and for all which of you is the bigger person, but also because it has the eminently satisfying effect of causing the Caller to forget the number.

D
espite my strenuous, not to say unparalleled, efforts to remain ill-informed, it has come to my attention that there has been, of late, some talk of war. Discussions concerning the drafting of women, the enrichment of the defense budget, and a certain unease on the part of older teenagers has led me to assume that what you people have in mind here is a regular war with soldiers, as opposed to a modern war with buttons.

Being classically inclined, I applaud this apparent return to the tried and true, yet cannot help but feel that contemporary life has taken its toll and we will thus be compelled to make certain allowances and institute practices that can only be called unorthodox. It is, therefore, in the national interests of a smooth transition and eventual victory that I offer the following:

SUPPOSE THEY GAVE A WAR AND YOU WEREN’T INVITED

The first step in having any successful war is getting people to fight it. You can have the biggest battlefields on your bloc,
the best artillery money can buy and strategies galore, but without those all-important combat troops your war just won’t get started. Numbers alone are not enough, however, and many a country has made the mistake of filling its armed forces with too many of the same type. A good mix is essential. Monotony is as dangerous on the battlefield as it is on the highway. The problem, then, is how to attract the sort of large and varied group that you are going to need.

The draft, of course, is traditional and always appropriate but it has, in recent years, fallen somewhat out of favor, becoming in the process not only old hat but downright ineffective. Clearly, extreme measures are called for, and in no way could they be better served than by the implementation of just a touch of psychological warfare. By combining the aforementioned situation with the indisputable fact that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, I suggest that instead of drafting, the powers that be consider inviting. Inviting ensures attendance by all but the most conscientious of objectors, who are impossible to get for really big things anyway. And although inviting might, at first glance, appear to be rather a grand gesture, the actual invitations can and should be simple and functional. Engraved invitations are showy, unduly formal and altogether lacking in urgency. The desired effect can probably best be achieved by the prudent use of the Mailgram. With the invitee’s name and address in the upper left-hand corner a personal salutation is unnecessary.

We then proceed to the body of the Mailgram, which might, for example, read:

Only one person can be admitted per invitation? This invitation is not transferable? Talk about impact. Imagine, if you will, the days immediately following the receipt of this missive. You are one of the lucky ones. There are others less fortunate. First casual inquiries, then pointed requests, finally desperate begging. On the eve of the induction the truly insecure go out of town while the aggressively defensive announce that they’re exhausted and have decided to just stay in and order Chinese food. Yes, people will be hurt. Friendships will be dissolved. New, decidedly unappealing alliances will be formed. It’s too bad, but it can’t be helped. Blood, sweat and tears are no longer enough; nowadays you need a door policy. All is fair in love and war.

THE CHILDREN’S CRUSADE

The most recent official statements on the subject indicate that when it comes to war, the powers that be are partial
to eighteen- and nineteen-year-olds. The parents of these youths may understandably be disconcerted at having to send their children off to what is at best an unfamiliar environment. In an effort to assuage these fears, I suggest that they think of the army as simply another kind of summer camp, and keep in mind that their child may well be the one to return with that highest of honors: Best All-Around Soldier.