Department of Resurrection

 

“Department of Resurrection,” said Sherry as she answered another call. The call center was alive with phones ringing and lights blinking and various phone operators all repeating the same scripted dialogue.

“Oh, you again,” said Sherry. 

Sherry rolled her eyes as the voice on the other end of the line began to plead their case for Resurrection.  This was the seventh call from this guy and he just wouldn’t take a hint.  Sherry leaned back in her office chair, the good one, the XP-709 lumbar support Executive. She worked very hard to get it. It was amazingly comfortable. The sort of comfort and support she needed for this call.  She sighed and closed her eyes. The voice on the other end kept going. 

“Yes, I do understand that is a horrific way to die, but I’m afraid without direction from upstairs, we just can’t snap our fingers and just make it happen,” said Sherry. 

She looked at her co-worker Sandra, all the “S” named women seemed to work in the same section for some reason. She was sure it was sexist and misogynistic, but she was normally just to busy to think too long on it.  Sandra mouthed the words, “Him again?” and Sherry nodded deliberately.

            Sandra smirked and shook her own head in exaggerated agreement. 

                “Yes. Yes. I am listening to you, but I do need you to listen to me now. I’ve given you ample time to explain your position and I would hope you’ll do me the same courtesy. Thank you. Now, as I have said, we need specific direction in writing from the supervisor in order to grant your request. I understand that you feel as though you are currently in peril however, I can say with a great deal of confidence that it is entirely unlikely you’ll need the services of the Department of Resurrection. The circumstances you are describing are highly unlikely and…,” said Sherry. 

                The voice on the other end screamed loud enough that Sherry had to pull the headphone away from her ear. Sandra took notice as Sherry reacted. 

                “Sir,” said Sherry, “I am going to need you to calm down. Sir… Sir…, Sir, yes… that’s right, please lower your voice. If you want our help, yelling is certainly not the way to obtain it. I understand.” 

                Sherry covered her mouth piece and leaned towards Sandra. “He said they’re whipping him.” 

                Sandra shrugged as she was dealing with her own call for Resurrection. Sherry took a deep breath and uncovered the receiver.  “Sir, here’s the best I can do. I can re-submit your request, put a rush on it as best as I can, but it’s highly likely you won’t receive a response for at least three days. Yes sir, three days is the standard minimum,” said Sherry. 

                “Okay, then that is what I will do sir. I will re-submit your request as soon as we get off the phone. Yes sir. It’s honestly the best I can do. Okay then. Alright… thank you. Yes sir. Thank you. Good-bye,” Sherry hung up. She groaned once the line was cleared. She started typing the Resurrection request slip out and clicked the “Submit” button. Her phone rang again and she answered. 

                “Department of Resurrection…. yes, the standard is three days. Jewish king? Sorry, there’s no exception for royalty. No sir,” said Sherry as she leaned back in her chair again. Thank God for comfy chairs.