A comma = Obama

You may or may not remember my lovely, articulate office receptionist. If not, you can read about her here. She is so brilliant that a certain somebody was inspired to start a spoof blog from my non-receptionist’s point of view.

Anyway, sometime this morning she announces a call to me from a company called Software Acomma* a frequent  exhibitor of ours.  The conversation unfolds as such:

Non-receptionist: Marci! Jan Crofton from Obama for you!

Me: Who?

No-receptionist: [Getting excited] It’s from Obama!

Me: Ok? (which is her cue to put the call through)

Me: Hello, this is Marci

“Jan Crofton”: Hi, this is Kristin from Software Acomma. I had some questions about your upcoming trade show.

Yeah.

But instead of fuming like usual, I was hysterically pleased with this exchange. Perhaps it was the glee in her voice when she thought Obama’s camp was calling me.

*I changed the name of the company slightly to protect them from any harm from having been associated with Barrack Obama, me, my non-receptionist or Baby Bananas.