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...where you start thinking that there's NO WAY that everyone around you can POSSIBLY be so stupid, so that means it MUST be you?
I mean, I've had a woman on the phone today who couldn't understand why she couldn't leave a voicemail message when she HUNG UP THE PHONE every time I tried to transfer her. LIKE SIX TIMES. And when told NOT to hang up the phone, SCOFFED at me and said "That's how I've ALLLLLWAYS done it!" WHAT??
We had a wedding announcement form filled out by the groom's mother, where in the slots for the names of the bride and groom's parents, she wrote "North Little Rock". In both areas. And upon being called to ask WTF, and after much teeth-pulling, receiving the names of both sets of parents (it wasn't that they didn't want them listed, it was that the woman COULDN'T REMEMBER HER OWN FREAKING NAME), it turned out that NEITHER pair were from anywhere remotely near Little Rock, they were from two completely different small towns in TEXAS.
Then there was the woman who argued at my desk with me for 20 minutes that, even though I've worked here almost four years and she just blew into town, that I do not know the jobs of my coworkers, and SHE HAD to speak the THE editor about getting her story printed, even though I told her repeatedly he wasn't responsible for that, the CITY editor was-oh, but he's the EDITOR, he MUST blah blah blah. I think her story was about something really exciting, though. Something like CORN.
Then there was this guy in his late 20's or early 30's who asked me for dates on two stories, but couldn't keep the dates in his brain for the full minute it took him to get downstairs and purchase the newspapers, so he came back and forth four times before I finally realized what he was doing and just called down to the front desk to tell them what papers to have waiting for him. I know there exists such a thing as short-term memory loss, but if that's the case, I have no idea how he remembered my name and repeated it FORTY TIMES EVERY TIME.
And don't even get me started on the woman at lunch who couldn't get my order right...ONE CHILI DOG WITH CHEESE. GOD, WHAT A COMPLICATED ORDER. I realize the fact that there are TWO MORE PEOPLE in the ENTIRE RESTAURANT means that you three waitresses are SUPER BUSY, but maybe one of you could take a couple of brain cells away from processing your brand-new fake boobs for a minute and go put a freaking weenie on a slice of bread and bring it to me?? Obviously, from the vacant expression in your SOULLESS DEAD EYES as you shuffle back and forth from the cash register to the WALL and BACK, asking you to do this AND locate the chili is just too much so I'll go find it myself, kthnxbye.
And so help me GOD, the next person who thinks THEY are going to tell ME when their article is going to be run is going to get a Dave Batista doll jammed so far into their rectal cavity that it'll pierce their LUNG. I NEED A NEW ONE ANYWAY SO DON'T TEMPT ME.
I mean, I've had a woman on the phone today who couldn't understand why she couldn't leave a voicemail message when she HUNG UP THE PHONE every time I tried to transfer her. LIKE SIX TIMES. And when told NOT to hang up the phone, SCOFFED at me and said "That's how I've ALLLLLWAYS done it!" WHAT??
We had a wedding announcement form filled out by the groom's mother, where in the slots for the names of the bride and groom's parents, she wrote "North Little Rock". In both areas. And upon being called to ask WTF, and after much teeth-pulling, receiving the names of both sets of parents (it wasn't that they didn't want them listed, it was that the woman COULDN'T REMEMBER HER OWN FREAKING NAME), it turned out that NEITHER pair were from anywhere remotely near Little Rock, they were from two completely different small towns in TEXAS.
Then there was the woman who argued at my desk with me for 20 minutes that, even though I've worked here almost four years and she just blew into town, that I do not know the jobs of my coworkers, and SHE HAD to speak the THE editor about getting her story printed, even though I told her repeatedly he wasn't responsible for that, the CITY editor was-oh, but he's the EDITOR, he MUST blah blah blah. I think her story was about something really exciting, though. Something like CORN.
Then there was this guy in his late 20's or early 30's who asked me for dates on two stories, but couldn't keep the dates in his brain for the full minute it took him to get downstairs and purchase the newspapers, so he came back and forth four times before I finally realized what he was doing and just called down to the front desk to tell them what papers to have waiting for him. I know there exists such a thing as short-term memory loss, but if that's the case, I have no idea how he remembered my name and repeated it FORTY TIMES EVERY TIME.
And don't even get me started on the woman at lunch who couldn't get my order right...ONE CHILI DOG WITH CHEESE. GOD, WHAT A COMPLICATED ORDER. I realize the fact that there are TWO MORE PEOPLE in the ENTIRE RESTAURANT means that you three waitresses are SUPER BUSY, but maybe one of you could take a couple of brain cells away from processing your brand-new fake boobs for a minute and go put a freaking weenie on a slice of bread and bring it to me?? Obviously, from the vacant expression in your SOULLESS DEAD EYES as you shuffle back and forth from the cash register to the WALL and BACK, asking you to do this AND locate the chili is just too much so I'll go find it myself, kthnxbye.
And so help me GOD, the next person who thinks THEY are going to tell ME when their article is going to be run is going to get a Dave Batista doll jammed so far into their rectal cavity that it'll pierce their LUNG. I NEED A NEW ONE ANYWAY SO DON'T TEMPT ME.
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