I kept missing calls from the same number and there was never any message, so I called it back to find out who it was. Aha, my mobile phone provider.
I'd paid the bill, so it wasn't that, for once. It was, I guessed, because my contract would be up for renewal shortly and they'd be looking to get two more years out of me in return for an upgrade.
Because contract renewal generally coincides with the life cycle of a phone and the average device is slowing or battered by the time they offer a new, 'free' one, I normally just lazily say 'yeah, grand'.
I've said 'yeah, grand' for years and I am, allegedly, a valued customer. I'm certainly a valuable one because lately, no matter what I try, the bills are stupidly huge. While everyone else has some dinky, all-you-can-eat package for €20 a month, dope girl pays about €90million a month, which might be a small exaggeration, and no amount of turning off the 3G helps.
So this time I wasn't going to be so easy. I was going to play hard to get. I was thinking of leaving, quite determined in fact, so perhaps that would prompt them to offer something amazing? Some unhealthy part of me was looking forward to being pleaded with.
I mean, really, when else in your life do you get begged to stay if not by a customer services representative? I could pretend that someone really cared.
The phone call came and I prepared myself for the begging. I was already weakening. If, if they played their cards right, I might just stay lazy and go with the contract and the spangly new phone.
It didn't start well. His tone suggested he not only didn't care if I, he or anyone else lived or died, but he might have even been hoping for the latter.
"Your contract is coming up for renewal and you're due an upgrade, are you interested?" I took a deep breath and began the dance. "Well, I have to say I haven't been that happy and was thinking of leaving..."
"OK. Bye." Beeeeeeeeeep.