That's the title of one of ELO's songs from the late 1970s, and rather describes my present status, now that my new voice is getting some practical use. What freedom a decent voice brings! You can open your mouth and not give yourself away; ask for things that you wouldn't dare to otherwise; and just talk and talk rather than scurry away to safety after the minimum essential words have been spoken. It's enlarging my life. I'm ready for interviews. I'm ready to argue and complain. I'm ready to sweet talk and persuade.
Actually, I may be verging on being a bit cocky. Like today. I needed two front tyres for my car. So down to the tyre place in the village. It's so convenient, they do the job well, and I always use them, although this time they haven't seen me for two years. In I go, and ask the cost of the two tyres plus the usual wheel alignment check and so on. £240 (it's a 4x4 remember). 'Oh', I say (producing the 2007 bill for four tyres fitted then at a unit cost of £75 each, plus the other things on top), 'What's the price per tyre then?' It's £109. 'That's a bit much, I think, even for a two year difference. Can you do me a better price than that, please?' I didn't say it sharply, but I said it with my best Welsh accent. As the world knows, in Wales you expect value for money and no nonsense. And I got the overall cost down to £216. And the job to be done next morning. 'Perfect', I said, and then promptly asked why, when you're buying a new car, you get a choice of wheel sizes, and what was the advantage of having 18 or 19 inch wheels over 17 inch wheeels? (I was curious about this, as I'll be changing my car in March). The answer was: larger tyres mean better traction, but tyres for 19 or 20 inch wheels are very expensive. It'll be 18 inch then. Useful to find that out.
Then off I went, thinking that many people would have got a keener deal than I did, but a drop from £240 to £216 wasn't bad, and I'd done it using my new voice. It was all down to that, because frankly my appearance wasn't that female (it was a skinny jeans day). The voice let me pass. I'd been standing two feet away from two mechanics who were obviously neither blind nor fools. And not a sign that they saw anything other than a middle-aged woman who felt she ought to have a little off the quote. Result!
I encored this with a stop at the caravan dealer to fix up the annual service on the caravan, this time speaking in a chatty way with a real woman. My luck held. Still no exposure!
But by the time I made the supermarket and the fabric shop I was thinking that the voice wasn't quite as good as earlier. So I said little, got my stuff, and went home. You can push things too far. Even so, when the voice has recovered a bit, I'll be ready for another bold foray.
I'm impatient for my next session with Christella.