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Just me laying a little mental smackdown on someone over the phone that I figured ya'll would enjoy. For the record, yes, I'm in a particularly foul mood today.
Today's lesson in "Being Impolite Gets You Nowhere".
Me: "Newsroom."
Wench: "Can you answer me some questions about letters to the editor?"
Me: "No, the gentleman you'd need to speak with is *R* and he's out to lunch right now, would you like to leave a message on his voicemail?"
Wench: *scoffing, snorting* "Well, is there anyone ELSE there who can answer my QUESTIONS? I NEED this information RIGHT AWAY."
Me: *grrrrrr* "Not at the moment, ma'am, would you like his voice mail?"
Wench: *snottily* "I'm SURE there's someone else who could answer my question. Did you even look?"
Me: *snap* "Well, you're right, there was someone here, until you starting whining like a little girl, then they all walked away."
Wench: *Gasp!* "How dare you!"
Me: "How dare I tell you the truth? You're right ma'am, I'm horrible. You can write a letter to the editor about it. Would you like his voice mail?"
Wench: "I want your name!"
Me: *gives name of woman who worked here ten years ago...you'll see why...*
Wench: "I'm going to report you!" *hangs up*
Heh heh, exactly as expected, she called to complain to the manager about "that awful woman", and when she tells him the name I gave her, he informs her that that person hasn't worked here in years and she must be mistaken, and hangs up the call after a couple of minutes, mentioning to us that the moon is almost full and the crazies are out again.
I'm sure Wench is somewhere screaming alone into her pillow right now.
Dance, puppets, dance.
Today's lesson in "Being Impolite Gets You Nowhere".
Me: "Newsroom."
Wench: "Can you answer me some questions about letters to the editor?"
Me: "No, the gentleman you'd need to speak with is *R* and he's out to lunch right now, would you like to leave a message on his voicemail?"
Wench: *scoffing, snorting* "Well, is there anyone ELSE there who can answer my QUESTIONS? I NEED this information RIGHT AWAY."
Me: *grrrrrr* "Not at the moment, ma'am, would you like his voice mail?"
Wench: *snottily* "I'm SURE there's someone else who could answer my question. Did you even look?"
Me: *snap* "Well, you're right, there was someone here, until you starting whining like a little girl, then they all walked away."
Wench: *Gasp!* "How dare you!"
Me: "How dare I tell you the truth? You're right ma'am, I'm horrible. You can write a letter to the editor about it. Would you like his voice mail?"
Wench: "I want your name!"
Me: *gives name of woman who worked here ten years ago...you'll see why...*
Wench: "I'm going to report you!" *hangs up*
Heh heh, exactly as expected, she called to complain to the manager about "that awful woman", and when she tells him the name I gave her, he informs her that that person hasn't worked here in years and she must be mistaken, and hangs up the call after a couple of minutes, mentioning to us that the moon is almost full and the crazies are out again.
I'm sure Wench is somewhere screaming alone into her pillow right now.
Dance, puppets, dance.
You are so awesome.
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