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All of them. So much hate! ><
Yes, last night was bad. We have this new account thats *really* driving me crazy. Its this study program on smoker's. They're rounding up a bunch of smokers to test stuff on like guinea pigs. So we have to screen them for the program, but its like a friggan 10 minute interview process and they lock out every other call in the queue. So of course they leave the line on 24/7 so it jams all my lines at night when some idjit at 3am decides to get tanked and call me with his sob story which I do not require. Whenever I get one of those calls all my other callers (Who may have actual emergencies) have to wait on hold for 5-10 minutes till I can get this jackass off the line. ><
Several of these are from the new account:
Math
SC: "Oooh, what was it….what's 3 x 12? Hmm…"
Me: "….." ( Because if I help her she'll never learn. )
SC: "46?" ( See? )
Ok, that problem was obviously a bit too difficult for you. So lets ramp it down a bit and work on the basics. Lets say you have one brain cell on the left side of your skull and one braincell on the right side of your skull. These braincells sort of swirl around in the empty vacuum inside your head until at some point this morning they managed to find each other and rub together long enough to generate the spark that led to you calling. Now how many brain cells do you have? Take your time, I'll wait.
I Hate You
Me: "and do you have any alcoholic beverages?"
SC: "Oh no, never!"
Yeah, that’s why you're calling at 3am, half tanked, to tell me your life story as the answer to every question I ask you. I'm sure you're perfectly sober. Oh no, you never drink any alcoholic beverages. Oh, wait, I see. Clever girl. I said beverages. I forgot to include other house hold items like VCR cleaning fluid and NyQuil. You're not hitting the NyQuil are you? NyQuil's like 20 proof you know. You might want to take it easy. Cut back a bit and move onto the Children's NyQuil for a while.
Ugh
SC: "Oh, I make sure everything I have is all natural! Like vitamins and stuff! Like, oh, what's that word…."
Me: "Organic?"
SC: "Yeah, organic!"
Yeah, cus cigarettes are full of vitamin C and calcium.
867
SC: "Can I order something from the <account name> Catalogue?"
No, no you can't. Go grab the Sears catalogue. Hell, grab whatever one you want, we take orders from ANY catalogue. Sears? No problem. Toys R Us? Sure, what the Hell. Victoria Secret? Of course! In fact, I have a lovely black teddy right here on the desk for reasons best left unexplained. I'm afraid the pink camo ones are out of stock though.
867...
SC: "What's that?! I can't hear you!"
Yeah, that’s because your complete lack of taste in music is blaring in the background. I know this may be surprising but communicating with speech requires that you can clearly hear the person speaking. Yes, I know, weird, eh? So please, turn it down. Because I can assure you I won't be in much of a position to assist you further once my left hand reaches the pen its inching towards and plunges it into my ear to save me from whatever the hell it is your playing. Plus I'll have to go to the hospital and the Jello there sucks. Its always lime. Ugh, lime. You don't want me to have eat lime Jello, do you?
867 again
Me: "<company name>"
SC: "<insert hideous rap / hip hop music>"
Oh, is this some sort of new tradition you guys have? Did I miss a meeting? Well, if you MUST inflict a sound track on me could you at least throw on something half decent? I don't mean to shatter your hopes and dreams but frankly living in Nunavut doesn't really lend you any "street cred". In fact, I believe you at the very least need streets before you can obtain such credits. But I could be wrong. Maybe strapping rims to a sled dog is "icy hot" or something.
Stupid Commercials
SC: "They said call for someone you love!"
Er, well, yes the commercial does say that….but I don't think it meant you could call and order a loved one. Well, actually maybe it does. Hell if I know what's in these information kits I'm sending out. Maybe they really do offer a fine line of quality loved ones for purchase then ship them out in crates via FedEx or something. I'd suppose you'd have to poke holes in the crate though and throw in some Twinkies and a couple cans of Coke or something.
867$!!$!
Me: "and what colour would you like it in?"
SC: "Grey cameo."
Oooh, someone learned a new word off the television today! Sadly, you've completely failed to apply it. It's camo, C-A-M-O. You know camo right? How the hell can you not know camo? Don't you need camo to hide from the polar bears in order to make it to the post office to get your damn hats to begin with? I'd think camo would be pretty important.
It's a shame they don't make urban camo. You know, something that could hide my presence from all the drug addled panhandlers between here and Granville Station. But I'd need some sort of special purse to keep my change from jingling. If all else fails I guess I could just jingle my keys, thrown them, then escape in the confusion.
867$@#TR h02F
SC: : "Where's it gonna come in?"
Me: "It'll arrive at the post office" ( You know, where your PO Box is. )
SC: "Is it gonna go to northern?"
Me: "Pardon? It'll be sent to the post office…"
SC: "Sears? Are ya gonna send it to Sears?"
Me: "………"
SC: "Can ya send it to Sears?"
Me: "It'll come in at the post office."
SC: "Oh! Ok."
Arrgh! Sears!? No, we'll just reach the city limits, find the nearest staggering hobo and slip him $20 and a bottle of Jack Daniels to go throw it on your lawn. After that its not our responsibility anymore. If you're lucky he might find your house. If you're really lucky he might pass out on your doorstep. If you're really really lucky we'll feel especially generous and buy his pants off him before we send him to your house.
I So Don't Care
Caller informed me that she is, of course, going to contact the Better Business Bureau, the state legislature and a variety of other agencies to report our "stealing" because there's no signs "for people like her" to tell her a payment may take a couple of business days to process. Yes, that's right, we didn't post signs for "people like her" that "don't know machines" to warn her that it might actually take time to process a payment. She's going to "take this as far as she can" and I assume attempt to have us lynched or something.
For those of you following along at home, her basic argument is "It's your fault I'm a slack jawed halfwit that couldn't be bothered to actually read the directions on the screen of a machine I'm about to wedge $300 into with my uncoordinated, Cheeto stained ape like fingers.".
With my mind!
SC: "I'm calling to activate my debit card."
Me: "I'm afraid you have the wrong number."
SC: "Oh, do you know what the right number is?"
Ah, I see its that time again. Its been a while since someone called upon my awe inspiring pyschic power to delve into the innane, totally insiginicant mysteries that plague their daily lives. Little hint: That was sarcasm! If I really had the type of ability you're requesting I use I can gurantee you I would NOT be sitting here answering phones. I'd be where ever the hell you live, sitting in your lawn furniture in your backyard with a glass of Koolaid and a sandwich while I try to make your head explode with my mind through your living room wall.
Might want to get up off couch. It'd suck if your surviving family members had to pay for your funeral AND upholestry cleaning.
Sometimes its the Coworkers
You know…the note on the account says that the clinic had to close early due to a lack of "Coctors"……Yes, that's right "Coctors". I don't know what those are….but I don't want them anywhere near me.
Idiot Crisis
Caller lost $5 in the machine. Clearly the entire nation must now move to Defcon 4 to face this crisis. Quick, raise the terror alert level! What's it at right now? Lemon? Orange? RAISE THAT BASTARD TO CHERRY! WE HAVE A SITUATION HERE!
<sobs quietly>
Me: "and your phone number?"
SC: "867-" ( Uh oh… )
Me: "and what's the postal code?"
SC: "xxx…..uh…….HEY PETER WHATS THE POSTAL CODE!? xxx?!
SC #2: "CHESTERFIELD!"
……Sure, what the hell. I might have some trouble jamming it all into the postal code field but I'm beyond the point of caring. I sailed by the Point of Caring an hour ago. Right now I'm working on drifting blindly into the Sea of Bitterness where I hope to wreck the ship on the Rocks of Utter Despair and slip into the sweet, sweet darkness of the ocean depths. Where I can get some peace and quiet. What the heck were we talking about again? Oh, right. You being an idiot.
Ha HA!
Me: "and your postal code?"
SC: "Oh, you got me there."
Yeah, I'm a clever bastard. I've been planning this the entire call. Everything I've talked to you about thus far was all just a set up leading to this moment! I've just been leading you along until I had you where I could devilishly outwit you! TASTE THE LIME JELLO OF DEFEAT!~@.
Yes, last night was bad. We have this new account thats *really* driving me crazy. Its this study program on smoker's. They're rounding up a bunch of smokers to test stuff on like guinea pigs. So we have to screen them for the program, but its like a friggan 10 minute interview process and they lock out every other call in the queue. So of course they leave the line on 24/7 so it jams all my lines at night when some idjit at 3am decides to get tanked and call me with his sob story which I do not require. Whenever I get one of those calls all my other callers (Who may have actual emergencies) have to wait on hold for 5-10 minutes till I can get this jackass off the line. ><
Several of these are from the new account:
Math
SC: "Oooh, what was it….what's 3 x 12? Hmm…"
Me: "….." ( Because if I help her she'll never learn. )
SC: "46?" ( See? )
Ok, that problem was obviously a bit too difficult for you. So lets ramp it down a bit and work on the basics. Lets say you have one brain cell on the left side of your skull and one braincell on the right side of your skull. These braincells sort of swirl around in the empty vacuum inside your head until at some point this morning they managed to find each other and rub together long enough to generate the spark that led to you calling. Now how many brain cells do you have? Take your time, I'll wait.
I Hate You
Me: "and do you have any alcoholic beverages?"
SC: "Oh no, never!"
Yeah, that’s why you're calling at 3am, half tanked, to tell me your life story as the answer to every question I ask you. I'm sure you're perfectly sober. Oh no, you never drink any alcoholic beverages. Oh, wait, I see. Clever girl. I said beverages. I forgot to include other house hold items like VCR cleaning fluid and NyQuil. You're not hitting the NyQuil are you? NyQuil's like 20 proof you know. You might want to take it easy. Cut back a bit and move onto the Children's NyQuil for a while.
Ugh
SC: "Oh, I make sure everything I have is all natural! Like vitamins and stuff! Like, oh, what's that word…."
Me: "Organic?"
SC: "Yeah, organic!"
Yeah, cus cigarettes are full of vitamin C and calcium.
867
SC: "Can I order something from the <account name> Catalogue?"
No, no you can't. Go grab the Sears catalogue. Hell, grab whatever one you want, we take orders from ANY catalogue. Sears? No problem. Toys R Us? Sure, what the Hell. Victoria Secret? Of course! In fact, I have a lovely black teddy right here on the desk for reasons best left unexplained. I'm afraid the pink camo ones are out of stock though.
867...
SC: "What's that?! I can't hear you!"
Yeah, that’s because your complete lack of taste in music is blaring in the background. I know this may be surprising but communicating with speech requires that you can clearly hear the person speaking. Yes, I know, weird, eh? So please, turn it down. Because I can assure you I won't be in much of a position to assist you further once my left hand reaches the pen its inching towards and plunges it into my ear to save me from whatever the hell it is your playing. Plus I'll have to go to the hospital and the Jello there sucks. Its always lime. Ugh, lime. You don't want me to have eat lime Jello, do you?
867 again
Me: "<company name>"
SC: "<insert hideous rap / hip hop music>"
Oh, is this some sort of new tradition you guys have? Did I miss a meeting? Well, if you MUST inflict a sound track on me could you at least throw on something half decent? I don't mean to shatter your hopes and dreams but frankly living in Nunavut doesn't really lend you any "street cred". In fact, I believe you at the very least need streets before you can obtain such credits. But I could be wrong. Maybe strapping rims to a sled dog is "icy hot" or something.
Stupid Commercials
SC: "They said call for someone you love!"
Er, well, yes the commercial does say that….but I don't think it meant you could call and order a loved one. Well, actually maybe it does. Hell if I know what's in these information kits I'm sending out. Maybe they really do offer a fine line of quality loved ones for purchase then ship them out in crates via FedEx or something. I'd suppose you'd have to poke holes in the crate though and throw in some Twinkies and a couple cans of Coke or something.
867$!!$!
Me: "and what colour would you like it in?"
SC: "Grey cameo."
Oooh, someone learned a new word off the television today! Sadly, you've completely failed to apply it. It's camo, C-A-M-O. You know camo right? How the hell can you not know camo? Don't you need camo to hide from the polar bears in order to make it to the post office to get your damn hats to begin with? I'd think camo would be pretty important.
It's a shame they don't make urban camo. You know, something that could hide my presence from all the drug addled panhandlers between here and Granville Station. But I'd need some sort of special purse to keep my change from jingling. If all else fails I guess I could just jingle my keys, thrown them, then escape in the confusion.
867$@#TR h02F
SC: : "Where's it gonna come in?"
Me: "It'll arrive at the post office" ( You know, where your PO Box is. )
SC: "Is it gonna go to northern?"
Me: "Pardon? It'll be sent to the post office…"
SC: "Sears? Are ya gonna send it to Sears?"
Me: "………"
SC: "Can ya send it to Sears?"
Me: "It'll come in at the post office."
SC: "Oh! Ok."
Arrgh! Sears!? No, we'll just reach the city limits, find the nearest staggering hobo and slip him $20 and a bottle of Jack Daniels to go throw it on your lawn. After that its not our responsibility anymore. If you're lucky he might find your house. If you're really lucky he might pass out on your doorstep. If you're really really lucky we'll feel especially generous and buy his pants off him before we send him to your house.
I So Don't Care
Caller informed me that she is, of course, going to contact the Better Business Bureau, the state legislature and a variety of other agencies to report our "stealing" because there's no signs "for people like her" to tell her a payment may take a couple of business days to process. Yes, that's right, we didn't post signs for "people like her" that "don't know machines" to warn her that it might actually take time to process a payment. She's going to "take this as far as she can" and I assume attempt to have us lynched or something.
For those of you following along at home, her basic argument is "It's your fault I'm a slack jawed halfwit that couldn't be bothered to actually read the directions on the screen of a machine I'm about to wedge $300 into with my uncoordinated, Cheeto stained ape like fingers.".
With my mind!
SC: "I'm calling to activate my debit card."
Me: "I'm afraid you have the wrong number."
SC: "Oh, do you know what the right number is?"
Ah, I see its that time again. Its been a while since someone called upon my awe inspiring pyschic power to delve into the innane, totally insiginicant mysteries that plague their daily lives. Little hint: That was sarcasm! If I really had the type of ability you're requesting I use I can gurantee you I would NOT be sitting here answering phones. I'd be where ever the hell you live, sitting in your lawn furniture in your backyard with a glass of Koolaid and a sandwich while I try to make your head explode with my mind through your living room wall.
Might want to get up off couch. It'd suck if your surviving family members had to pay for your funeral AND upholestry cleaning.
Sometimes its the Coworkers
You know…the note on the account says that the clinic had to close early due to a lack of "Coctors"……Yes, that's right "Coctors". I don't know what those are….but I don't want them anywhere near me.
Idiot Crisis
Caller lost $5 in the machine. Clearly the entire nation must now move to Defcon 4 to face this crisis. Quick, raise the terror alert level! What's it at right now? Lemon? Orange? RAISE THAT BASTARD TO CHERRY! WE HAVE A SITUATION HERE!
<sobs quietly>
Me: "and your phone number?"
SC: "867-" ( Uh oh… )
Me: "and what's the postal code?"
SC: "xxx…..uh…….HEY PETER WHATS THE POSTAL CODE!? xxx?!
SC #2: "CHESTERFIELD!"
……Sure, what the hell. I might have some trouble jamming it all into the postal code field but I'm beyond the point of caring. I sailed by the Point of Caring an hour ago. Right now I'm working on drifting blindly into the Sea of Bitterness where I hope to wreck the ship on the Rocks of Utter Despair and slip into the sweet, sweet darkness of the ocean depths. Where I can get some peace and quiet. What the heck were we talking about again? Oh, right. You being an idiot.
Ha HA!
Me: "and your postal code?"
SC: "Oh, you got me there."
Yeah, I'm a clever bastard. I've been planning this the entire call. Everything I've talked to you about thus far was all just a set up leading to this moment! I've just been leading you along until I had you where I could devilishly outwit you! TASTE THE LIME JELLO OF DEFEAT!~@.
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