Day 3: I'm fabulous, thank you.

[Gravekeeper]

<whimper>



Fabulous

Me: "Good even, <company> Emergency Line"
SC: "Hello! Hi, how are you? Good evening, hi. Hello!"

I am fabulous! How are you!? Are you doing ok!? I'm doing great! In fact every single moment of this blessed evening is like a tiny explosion of rainbows and chocolate sprinkles. Even as I speak playful fairies are dancing about the office leaving a trail of happiness and butterscotch while basket fulls of puppies rain from the ceiling.

P.S. I hate you.



Do You Speak It?

Me: "Good evening, Gravekeeper speaking. How may I help you?"
SC: "Do you speak English?"

No, not a word of it to be honest. You, however, seem fluent in half wit. I don't speak that either, but I do recognize that dazed sort of "victim of a head injury" tone in your voice that's native to your people.



Smokers...

Me: "can you rate your addiction on a scale from 1 to 10?"
SC: "Well I don’t smoke all day. I smoke less in the evening because-"

JUST GIVE ME A NUMBER! <sob>

(Why? WHY IS IT ALWAYS THE LIFE STORY?! Every single one of them. Not one question is "Can you please tell me the entire story of your existence?")



Wrong Numbers...

Me: "<company> Roofing and Drainage"
SC: "Do you know the number to Surrey cab?"

No. Do you know the number to the Subway on Kingsway near Edmonds? No? Yeah, think about that for a moment then let me know if you come to a revelation. Don't strain yourself.



Qualifications

Me: "That’s the only thing I have in San Francisco"
SC: "Damn, really? Do you have anything else?"

You seem unclear on the meaning of "Only". Only rules out all other possibilities. You know, like your current level of intellect rules out every career possibility that doesn't involve turning beer into pee.




Just one more day to go....

[phoenix_rising]

Smokers...

Me: "can you rate your addiction on a scale from 1 to 10?"
SC: "Well I don’t smoke all day. I smoke less in the evening because-"

JUST GIVE ME A NUMBER! <sob>

(Why? WHY IS IT ALWAYS THE LIFE STORY?! Every single one of them. Not one question is "Can you please tell me the entire story of your existence?")

That sounds like my mother.


SC: Well, you see, when I was in the womb...

[Becks]

I am fabulous! How are you!? Are you doing ok!? I'm doing great! In fact every single moment of this blessed evening is like a tiny explosion of rainbows and chocolate sprinkles. Even as I speak playful fairies are dancing about the office leaving a trail of happiness and butterscotch while basket fulls of puppies rain from the ceiling.

P.S. I hate you.

What? No kittens and babies and ribbons and gumdrops? Your day isn't nearly as good as mine.

[AFpheonix]

<whimper>




Do You Speak It?

Me: "Good evening, Gravekeeper speaking. How may I help you?"
SC: "Do you speak English?"

No, not a word of it to be honest. You, however, seem fluent in half wit. I don't speak that either, but I do recognize that dazed sort of "victim of a head injury" tone in your voice that's native to your people.

I had someone ask me once "If any of you people speak english." Uhhh....you just got quite possibly the whitest tech here on the phone.

I replied that we were all perfectly fluent here. I tried to get the pharmacist to pick up the phone and answer in Cambodian, but although she laughed, she wouldn't go for it.
This is one of our regulars, and the common concensus is that he's an asshole. An asshole that procreated. I'm guessing roofies were involved.

[Jester]

Back when I worked at one particular restaurant on this island (think red and white stripes), we had a lot of staff that were from another country. Why did we have a lot of staff that were from another country? Well, it just might be because the whole area has a lot of residents that are from another country. Now, although they were from another country, the vast majority of the foreigners we had on the wait staff spoke perfectly fine English, albeit with an accent.

And it never stopped that people, generally locals, would ask if they could get "an American server." The irony here is that most of the foreigners on the wait staff were damn good at what they did, and some of the Americans on the wait staff sucked. Actually about the same proportion as the foreigners who sucked. But these small-minded yahoos equated not being a native English speaker as not being able to understand their food orders and not being able to do their job well. Even though waiting tables is hardly rocket science, and it was unlikely the customers were going to be saying much that these people didn't understand, since the wait staff dealt with the same menu items every single day. As I was friends with many of the foreigners on staff, and recognized this crap for what it was, it pissed me off.

And one day I had had enough. A table of eight came in and sat in the section of one of our foreign staff, who spoke excellent English and also happened to be damned good at what they did. But the customers went on and on and on and on to the hostess about how they HAD to have an American server. So she approached me, as I was not exceptionally busy. So, let's see.....you yahoos are going to cost my friend and coworker money by refusing to be served by him, even though he is in all likelihood far more educated than you are. Okay, fine. Be that way.

And I marched right up to the table, and in my best and thickest Irish brogue said, "Hello there folks. Walcome to Corporate Restaurant., my name is Jester. Can I start you off with something to drink?"* And they just froze.

It's been said here before, and I'll say it again: Don't fuck with Jester or Jester's friends.


*I can't TYPE in an Irish brogue, but trust me, it was thick. Use your imagination.

[Ackee]

<whimper>

Me: "Good even, <company> Emergency Line"
SC: "Hello! Hi, how are you? Good evening, hi. Hello!"

I am fabulous! How are you!? Are you doing ok!? I'm doing great! In fact every single moment of this blessed evening is like a tiny explosion of rainbows and chocolate sprinkles. Even as I speak playful fairies are dancing about the office leaving a trail of happiness and butterscotch while basket fulls of puppies rain from the ceiling.

P.S. I hate you.

May I please have this, Gravekeeper?
You have such amazing sarcasm. I will miss your posts terribly when you get a proper job...

[BusyBee]

That sounds like my mother.

Sounds like my grandma...
You ask her a question, she talks, nonstop, for a full 5 minutes... Then you have to ask her again because not once in those 5 minutes did she get close to answering the question.
It took me about 10 minutes to get an answer on "what colour was the cat?" tonight.
And, no, she's not senile, has no mental disease or incapacity... She's just like Gravekeeper's callers is all

[Thrifty]

You ask her a question, she talks, nonstop, for a full 5 minutes...


Hehe that's like my fiance, although he answers the question in the first 5 seconds then goes on for 3 minutes after moving further and further away from what the question was about.

[ContraCorriente]

And, no, she's not senile, has no mental disease or incapacity... She's just like Gravekeeper's callers is all

If she's completely, totally sane and normal, then she's not like Gravekeeper's callers.

[Tanasi]

My oldest daughter works at a country music night club that caters to the wealthier country crowd (think of it was as a redneck hooters). This one bunch of off duty deputies always ask for someone that "talks murican". So the hostess sat them in my daughters section and told her to speak "murican" at them. So DD proceeds to talk to them in the Cherokee language. They didn't have a clue but asked to speak to the hostess again. They complained that they didn't get someone that "talks murican", hostess says you did she's speaking Cherokee how much more American does it get? DD said they just sat there with their mouths hanging open.

[Imogene]

SC: "Hello! Hi, how are you? Good evening, hi. Hello!"

I get this feeling you were on the phone with a squirrel with huge glasses and a problem with hypochondria. Did he talk in a slightly high voice about the pills?

[ladylabyrinth]

So DD proceeds to talk to them in the Cherokee language. They didn't have a clue but asked to speak to the hostess again. <snip> she's speaking Cherokee how much more American does it get? DD said they just sat there with their mouths hanging open.

OWNED! I love it, love it!

Reminds me: xkcd webcomic had a little piece on that as well: linky