"Vickie, would you mind answering that?" Taylor asked, soldering gun already in hand and glasses in place to keep him from blinding himself. "Sure," she said, picking the receiver up from the cradle. "Who the hell has a landline these days?" "We the hell do," Taylor grumped. "Answer the phone." He could almost hear her eyes rolling as she pressed the receiver to the side of her head. "McFadden's Mechs, how can I help you?" It wasn't a great name, but he wasn't going to be complaining, turning to his work, but keeping an ear out for the conversation, or the one side of it that he could hear. "What?" Vickie asked. "No, I'm not a secretary. Why, are you a janitor? I mean, yeah, all janitors are men, right, so all men must be janitors, are you kidding me right now?" Taylor raised an eyebrow. Maybe work could wait. He wanted to hear what Vickie had to say to whomever was calling her. "Yes, it was a sexist question, thanks for asking," Vickie replied. "Now, do you want to try again? Hi, this is Vickie from McFadden's Mechs, how can I help you not be a sexist a-hole this afternoon?" Well, that was one way to go about it.