News - What if you called the mayor’s office?

City of Atlanta, Mayor Campbell’s office. May I help you?
“Yes, thank you. I was wondering if I could speak to the mayor.”
“I’m sorry, but the mayor is unavailable.”
“Well, uh, is there a good time for me to call back?”
“Not really. Mayor Campbell is extremely busy right now. Meetings, fundraisers, long conference calls with a very distinguished group of defense attorneys.”
“Well, does the mayor have any official business on his schedule today?”
“I’m afraid I can’t say. The mayor’s public schedule is his private business.”
“Hmm. Does Mayor Campbell consider himself a public servant?”
“Of course he does. He’s mayor of Atlanta, after all.”
“And yet you just said that his public schedule was his private business.”
“That’s right. He’s a public official with a private schedule.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but that doesn’t make much sense to me.”
“Well, it makes perfect sense to me.”
“I’m sure it does. You work for the mayor. Can you tell me if his honor is in the office today or not?”
“I really can’t. It’s against administration policy to comment on the mayor’s current whereabouts.”
“Can you at least tell me if the mayor is traveling out of Atlanta or is here in the city?”
“I’m afraid not. The mayor is very concerned about his privacy and his personal security. This city, as you may know, is not entirely safe.”
“Well, if you can’t tell me where the mayor is right now, could I schedule an appointment with him sometime next week?”
“I don’t think that would be possible. The mayor, as I said, is very busy.”
“I’m flexible. What about week after next?”
“I’m afraid the mayor will still be busy. As it happens, his honor will be representing Atlanta at a very important meeting in an undisclosed Western city.”
“Meeting, huh? Are you sure the mayor isn’t just taking another gambling junket to Las Vegas?”
“I’m not at liberty to confirm or deny the destination or purpose of the mayor’s trip. I can say, categorically, that Mayor Campbell’s personal habits — whatever they may be — are between him, his family and his God. And that many celebrated Americans, Michael Jordan among them, have been known to, uh, play the odds from time to time.”
“Isn’t there any way for me to make an appointment with the mayor?”
“Well, there do happen to be several exceptions to the mayor’s standard unavailability. Let’s see. Are you a friend of the mayor’s looking to facilitate, for a hefty fee, the city’s relationship with a universally well-known company?”
“No.”
“Well, then, are you a minority airport vendor seeking special favors like, say, another cut in your Hartsfield lease rate?”
“Nope.”
“Are you with a company currently doing business with the city and find yourself in need of a powerful guest speaker to liven up your next sales meeting?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Are you certain? I assure you the mayor’s suggested honorarium is quite reasonable for a man of his stature and, uh, position of influence over city contracts, if you take my meaning.”
“I’m quite sure I don’t want to pay the mayor to talk to me.”
“Well, if you’re one of the racist Justice Department thugs hounding Mayor Campbell because he’s black or one of the local smart alecks constantly asking why the mayor always shops with big rolls of cash in his pockets, you’ll need to direct any inquiries to a member of the mayor’s legal Dream Team.”
“Truth is, I’m just an average citizen wondering why the mayor is so completely inaccessible to his own constituents.”
“Inaccessible? I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. The mayor is constantly on TV in the wake of city tragedies. Don’t you remember the way he took charge of the tube after the Buckhead day-trading massacre? Beyond that, he routinely submits to serious interviews with the most prominent DJs in the community. And he was all over TV during the Olympics.”
“So when is his term up?”
“Next January.”
“I’ll call back then.”