THE TELEPHONE MANNER

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 882, 28 January 1930, Page 4

THE TELEPHONE MANNER

CONFUSION. OVERLAPPING AND DELAY WOMEN ARE THE WORST OFFENDERS If only those cards of instructions. received by telephone subscribers, that tell one to depress and release the receiver hook slowly and repeatedly, and to apeak clearly, deliberately, and close to mouthpiece, would give some suggestions about a suitable telephone manner that would be useful to subseribers and greatly facilitate the use of that instrument. There are so many telephone manners ihal make for confusion, overlapping and delay. There is the vague, verbose manner The subscriber who uses this manner is generally of those who find It difficult to approach any subject hy direct attack, and prefer to lead up to it by a series of flank movements. This subscriber nearly always begins bis communications by saying “er."

“Er —Is that you. Brown? I wanted —er —h*m—my wife and I are thinking of going to the theatre tonight, and —er—-we’re going to sue ‘The Belle of Balbam,’ as a matter of fact—jolly good thing, I’m told; have you seen it? No? Peachie Popper’s in it; 1 hear she's marvellous. I remember -eeing her mother, Pettis Popper, in variety, when I was quite a boy—-t-lever little woman —h’m—yes—clever little—well, what I wanted to say was, my wife’s a bit short-sighted, likes to have a look at the pretty clothes, and all that, and—er—wel, I wonder if you'd lend us your operti-glasses, old man? Thanks—er—thanks—yes. I’ll send round for them ai: once—er yes, quite well, thanks—yes, did very well in the Finals, thanks—well, goodbye; thanks—er—”

Then there is the Story-of-my-Life manner. Women are particular sinners in this respect. - There are certain women whose communications over the telephone are not so much messages as narratives. The conversation runs something on these lines:—“Hullo, my dear! I just want to fix up about where to meet tomorrow—what?—oh, no! Oh, I say, what gtiastly bad luck . . . Well, you know now you mention it, I did have an idea there was something going on; don’t you remember my saying to you that time . . . yes, I know, but then Jim was always against my having anything to do with them, and the only time I went down there, when Jim was away for a week, we had a big row afterward . , . you know, Jim doesn t often lose his temper, but when he does . . . well, he never told you—did you know Brenda MacJabber’s got a job travelling in French nictionaries for a firm of publishers? I m really awfully glad, because it’ll get her out of Tom’s way for a bit, he's been simply wretched, poor child - . . he came round here yesterday evening and told Jim and me all about if, it seems Brenda’s been behaving awfully bad . . . well, I call her a little cad myself, but, of course, Tom thinks she s a cardboard angel; but, after

all, he’s only 21—what? Milicent? No . . . my dear, how awful! . . . why, she was round here only a week ago, telling us the wedding was all fixed up - . . yes, all right, do—come round any time, I’m dying to hear; you can’t say much on the telephone, can you? Rtght-o, old thing—cheerio . . . * * * The receiver having been replaced, earpiece downward, according to instructions, the subscriber suddenly remembers that she has forgotten to mention the real object for w ; hich she rang up. Getting the number again, she says: “Hullo, my dear ... I say, we never fixed up about where to meet tomorrow—suppose we say—what? Tony? Oh, that’s absurd. Why, he told me himself. . . * * * There are some subscribers, usuallv grave and weighty men, who adopt a humorous, breezy manner on the telephone. -But the best subscriber is one with whom one can converse like this: Oneself: “Hullo X. Like a game of golf tomorrow? X: Sure thing. What time? Oneself: Ten sharp. X: Right. Good-bye. Oneself: Good-bye. This surely is the manner that might be suggested for the use of subscribers on the card of instructions.