100 People:xv. Marco Sierra

Marco Sierra slammed down the phone. He looked at it for two minutes; inhaling and exhaling heavily. He cleared his throat and swallowed. He spun in his chair from the phone over to his computer. He picked up an unlit cigarette and flicked his lighter. The flame that rose up was the only source of light in the room besides the glow of the computer screen. He took a drag on the cigarette until the flame took and it was lit. Marco took two puffs and then opened an internet browser window.

He typed in the copy shop’s name and found the phone number to the local branch. Then he spun back around to the phone and dialed the number. He took more drags on the cigarette as the phone rang.

“Thank you for calling...” said a voice, high pitched but male.

“Yeah, I need to talk to the manager now,” said Marco, wiping spit from the side of his mouth.

“May I ask you is calling?”

“This is Marco and I need to talk with the manager now.” Then the phone clicked and a women’s voice came on the line talking about various products the copy shop offered.

Marco sat in his chair slightly rocking side to side while he continued to smoke his cigarette. His hand holding the cigarette was shaking. Then there was a click on the phone and another male voice, deeper than the first, said, “This is Ben. How can I help you?”

“Yeah, look, I came there a couple weeks ago. Did a pretty big job; paid like two hundred dollars. And I don’t ever give my real name or phone number out unless I have to pay with a credit card and my information needs to be verified.”

“Okay.”

“So I just got this phone call by some claiming to be from your company. His name was Chris. Do you have a Chris that works there?” He gripped his cigarette tight, his hand still shaking.

“No, there is no Chris here. It was probably someone from our customer service division just doing a follow up call to make sure everything was okay with your order.”

“Well, look, I don’t want this information getting out…”

“Sir, everything is kept internal with the company. They don’t sell the information.”

Marco mashed his smoked cigarette into an ashtray. He leaned back in his chair and grit his teeth. “I. Don’t. Want. To. Be. Called.”

“I apologize sir.”

“I don’t want my number getting out.”

“I understand sir. What I can do is delete the information in our system. However, if you want to talk to our corporate headquarters you can do that as well. I really have no power over what they do with customer information.”

“Oh you bet corporate will hear from me. And yes, you need to delete my information.”

“Okay sir, I’ll need your phone number.”

Marco almost dropped the phone. He felt like slamming through his oak desk. Then he started laughing and said, “Well there’s a problem. I don’t want to give that out.”

“Look I can’t delete something that isn’t there. You want me to guess what customer’s info to erase?”

“Fine. Two-five-eight. Three-six. Five-nine.”

“That’s six-six-two area code?”

“Yes,” said Marco.

“Alright, so I’ll delete that from our system.”

“I better not get anymore calls unless it is from your store. Because look, I like your company but I can’t have my information get out. So if you can’t keep it confidential then I’ll go somewhere else for my copies.”

“Hmm, okay.”

Marco hung up the phone. He lit another cigarette and began smoking it. His wife opened the door to his office. “It’s time, dear,” his wife said.

“Huh.”

“Everything’s in place. It’s all ready.”

“Oh okay,” Marco said, “About time you dinner on the table. I’m starving.”