He worked with the numbers all day. Even changing them to something random just to see if it looked better or worse.
It didn’t help though. Ideally some sort of natural mind-reading ability in humans would be the answer, but then an advantage born of experience would be worth nothing.
A trip to the kitchen put him too close to the ringing phone to ignore it, although six rings did put it within a baw-hair of the answering machine getting it. The call was a diversion though.
“Yelldotcom here, I see you haven’t renewed your advert yet”
“Aye, and I’m no gonnae”
“You know you’ve had fifty calls from your ad?”
“Indeed, forty seven from tool suppliers, mobile phone sellers, industrial laundry services, fuel card providers and three from friends to ask if I’d changed my phone number because you’d changed the number on the add to the tracking one after I expressly told you not to?”
“Ah, I see Sir, now we do offer…”
“I want my money back or a date for a square go after school with the Yell MD”
He went back to his numbers with a cuppa and a KitKat, a two-fingered one at that. He saw that as a victory of sorts, in times previous it would have been a four-finger with some Nutella spread on it.
Sod this he thought with his nose at the screen, this is how much it costs, if I go less I’m paying for the privilege of doing the work. I’d be as well sitting at home scratching my arse and selling shit on ebay that I bought in TK Maxx.
Attach File, Send, Relief. It was out of his hands.