On the phone tonight, a customer asked me, quite politely, if he could ask me a question. "If you don't mind," he added. Southern charm. I smiled. He sounded good-looking. Yes, I judge by voice now. Besides, when all I have is a voice, I can pretend whatever I want about who's on the other end.
I agreed and prepared for the question, hoping it wasn't anything terribly awkward or embarrassing. My blush is probably visible through the phone.
"You're from the North, aren't you?
THE NORTH. I'm from the North, aren't I?
"I can tell by your accent."
That was the sound of my forehead hitting my desk. MY ACCENT? Oh. Oh, no. Come on. I'm from "the North." And sound like it. Shit.