— Hey, Kevin. How’s it going? It’s Mike from that thing at the bar last week.
— HELLO, WELCOME TO KEVIN.
— So, uh—
— FOR SCHEDULING, PLEASE PRESS 1. FOR REMINISCING ABOUT GOOD AND/OR BAD TIMES SHARED WITH KEVIN, PRESS 2. FOR QUESTIONS ABOUT KEVIN’S JOB AND/OR NEW BABY, PLEASE PRESS 3. FOR UNSOLICITED STOCK MARKET ADVICE, PLEASE PRESS 4. FOR GENERIC DISCUSSION ABOUT THE NEW YORK JETS, PLEASE PRESS 5. FOR ALL OTHER MATTERS, PLEASE PRESS 6. PARA ESPAÑOL, POR FAVOR PULSE SIETE.
— Uh, I guess this would be considered a “bad time?” I don’t know. It’s really not that big of a deal.
— THANK YOU FOR YOUR SELECTION. IN ORDER TO BEST ASSIST YOU, I’LL NEED SOME MORE INFORMATION. IF YOU ARE ONE OF KEVIN’S PARENTS, PLEASE PRESS 1. IF YOU ARE ONE OF KEVIN’S SIBLINGS, PLEASE PRESS 2. IF YOU ARE A FRIEND, PLEASE PRESS 3.
— Umm … well, he’s Tim’s friend from flag football’s brother-in-law. Okay, I’ll just pick “friend.” Close enough, right?
— FRIEND VERIFICATION REQUIRED. PLEASE ENTER KEVIN’S BIRTHDAY AND THEN PRESS POUND.
— Are you kidding me?
— I’M SORRY, THAT WAS AN INVALID ENTRY. HELLO, WELCOME TO KEVIN.
— Jesus Christ. OK, 6. I’m pressing 6.
— THANK YOU FOR YOUR SELECTION. IN ORDER TO BEST ASSIST YOU, I’LL NEED SOME MORE INFORMATION. YOU CAN SAY THINGS LIKE “KEVIN’S PROMOTION” OR “I LOVE ROAD BIKING, TOO.”
— OK. Finance.
— I’M SORRY, I DIDN’T GET THAT.
— I’M SORRY, I—
— FI. NAN. CE.
— THANK YOU FOR YOUR SELECTION. I’LL TRANSFER YOU TO THE NEXT AVAILABLE KEVIN SERVICE REPRESENTATIVE. YOUR CALL MAY BE MONITORED OR RECORDED FOR TRAINING PURPOSES. THERE ARE CURRENTLY FOUR CALLERS AHEAD OF YOU.
— Are you fucking serious?
— Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kevin. This is Ernesto.
— Yeah, I have a question regarding billing. Last week we were at this bar and Kevin and I decided to split a round for everyone. It’s not really like me to do that — whatever, that doesn’t matter. Kevin hasn’t paid me back yet, and I was wondering if we could work that out.
— Thank you very much, I will be able to help you with this issue. May I please have your account number?
— My account number?
— Yes sir, that’s correct.
— I don’t have an account number. I’ve literally only seen Kevin, like, three times in my life.
— It should be an eight-digit number,
— Listen, I don’t have an account.
— Okay, sir, may I please have the phone number associated with the account?
— Uhh, OK? 610-745-8305.
— Thank you, sir. May I please have your address?
— Look, I don’t even have an — okay. It’s 571 West 57th Street, New York City.
— OK, sir. Just give me one second here to pull up your address.
— (sighs loudly)
— I see your address is in New York, but you have contacted our North Carolina office.
— You’re joking, right?
— I can go ahead and transfer you. Please hold on, sir.
— I hate you.
— Good afternoon, thank you for calling Kevin. This is Melody.
— I’ve been on the phone for 45 minutes trying to work this out, so I hope you can understand my frustration.
— I’m very sorry to hear that, sir. I’ll be able to assist you with this issue.
— OK, thank you. I’m just trying to get reimbursed for half of the round Kevin and I split.
— Alright, I can help you with that. Can I please have your account number? It should start with a ‘6.’
— Oh my God. I don’t have an account number. I’ve never had an account number. Why would I need an account number?
— Alright, sir. Can I please have the phone number—
— This is fucking ridiculous. Can I just give you my credit card number?
— Go ahead, sir.
— OK, just to confirm that’s 3059-6675-7239?
— One moment, please, sir. Thank you for your patience.
— OK, sir. I’m not showing any record of this transaction with Kevin.
— What? I have the receipt right here. And Kevin said he would pay me back. Why is this so difficult? Can I just talk to Kevin?
— If you would like to submit a claim, I can go ahead and transfer you.
— One moment, please, sir.
— Melody, you fucking bitch.
— HELLO, WELCOME TO KEVIN. YOU HAVE REACHED THE CLAIMS CENTER. FOR HANDSHAKE AGREEMENTS, PLEASE PRESS—
— You know what? Fuck it. And fuck you, Kevin. It was only 35 bucks.
— I’M SORRY, I DIDN’T GET THAT.
— Fuck you, Kevin. And by the way, your baby is ugly.
Drew Muller is a twenty-something living in New York City doing his best to “adult.”