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Today's first rant concerns lazy ass coworkers. Why are you so surprised that you are universally loathed on the call floor? Let me explain something to you about corporate America. The overpaid corporate nutjobs above us don't see us lowly call reps as people. We are little customer service drones to them. They see us all as one big entity, so we suffer from the 'weakest link' fallacy. If you are a lazy ass who doesn't do their job properly, the nutjobs see that and they assume that all of us are just like you. This tends to piss off those of us who were unlucky enough to have parents who instilled real work ethic into our malleable little brains. So don't be surprised that people turn away from you when you try to talk to them, that people don't want to sit with you at lunch or even acknowledge your presence while out on a smoke break. And god forbid you should whine aloud about what meanies we all are. We have been dealing with unreasonable customers for so long we have no sense of decency left, and will jump on you like a pack of wild dogs and rip the meat from your whiny little bones. Try actually doing your job for once, and maybe we will start acknowledging your presence. Now, I'm not promising anything, it may just be too late for you. You may be stuck with that "I'm an anuscake to my fellow employees" label forever. And frankly, that is your fault, and yours alone. I hope you get hit by a bus on the way home so I can have your desk.
To the guy on the phone who told me to go fuck myself: Yeah, your girlfriend must be so proud of you. You're not even an original cusser. You know, if you're going to be foul mouthed with me, you could at least be creative about it. Using variations on 'fuck' every third word does not make you sound dangerous, it makes you sound like an uneducated retard. Try for some originality! At least that would make me laugh, and I might even file away a particularly tasty phrase for later use. The fuck word is overused and boring at this point, and only advertises what an uninteresting lay you must be. I hope your girlfriend gets a life and leaves you with no choice but talking dirty to your blowup dolls.
People who are buying drugs while I am trying to talk to you: Okay, I am not an idiot. I know what a bong sounds like when it is being cleared; I went to college. That I don't mind. It rather amuses me, actually. Makes me think of all those stoner boys I hung out with in the dorms. But please don't make me interrupt an obvious drug deal. I don't need to hear you and your dealer arguing over whether you want a half or a quarter, okay? I see that sort of thing often enough in the movies, I don't need to hear it in real life!
Ok here's one for you impatient snots: I have certain scripts that I have to say on the phone. Don't worry, they only take a couple of seconds each. But I HAVE to say them. I get bad grades on my calls if I don't. So don't cut me off and snap at me to hurry up, you frog snogging bitch. If you think I am going to skip the scripts and fail this call just because you're too impatient to let me do my job properly, well you can eat shit and go bark at the moon. I HURRY FOR NO ONE. Especially not some brainless, spoiled, squeaky voiced entitlement whore who thinks the sun rises and sets in her Victoria's Secret underpants. I got news for you, Britney: "trophy wife" is your probable fate. Remember to brush up on those fellatio skills, cause you're gonna need them to keep him interested.
Racist old ladies: I hate dealing with you. I don't care how much you hate foreigners, so shut your pie hole! Do you really think you are the only person I've had to listen to this week rant at me because they had to talk to someone with an accent? Why do you inbred lemmings think that ranting to me about it is gonna do you a damn bit of good? Believe me, if I had any control over who we hired, I would not waste it keeping foreigners out of the call center. Instead, that brainless, braless wonder at the command center desk would not be sitting there filing her nails and letting all the fat fucks look down her shirt as they walk in. I'd hire a big, mean looking dyke who calls herself 'Jeff' to sit up there and glare at everyone all day, and instruct her to scream at the guys if they don't acknowledge her when they walk in. I'd then park my sorry ass in a desk close by and bask in the hilarity of it all. So please, leave me out of your xenophobic ranting. I like diversity, it keeps things entertaining.
Even more fun are the ones who think they are too good to talk to me. Look, Paris, I don't care if you are on a business call, I have to do my job, and whining, bitching, sighing and calling me names is not gonna get you your minutes faster. If anything it will make me go slower just so I can prolong your misery the way you are prolonging mine. Get a grip. You are using a shitty prepaid cell phone to run your half-assed wedding dress business. I got news for you, you ain't no Ralph Lauren, bitch. Suck it up and let me do my job.
My job has just installed a hand sanitizer next to the time clock. Are they trying to tell us something? Apparently it's a hint that we should stop slathering shit all over our hands before we come back to our desks from our bathroom breaks. Has this really been a problem here? Cause I had no idea. I will have to remember not to clip my toenails or treat my genital warts while at my desk, I guess. Sometimes corporate just really confuses me.
Someday I'm gonna invent a phone that will allow me to reach through the phone and bitchslap people who desperately need it. "But I don't waaaaaanaaaaaaa do this." SLAP! "You will give me what I want right now, goddammit." SLAP! "If you won't give me what I want, then give me to someone who will." SLAP! "It's your fault my kid stole my money." SLAP! I'm telling you, not only would I make millions, I'd be a hero to phone reps everywhere. They'd have my picture on the wall of every call center in the world. There would be parades in my honor. People would refuse phone jobs unless one of my patented Slapper Phones™ was promised as part of the equipment.
Yes, even I, with my shrunken little black heart, can still dream.
To the guy on the phone who told me to go fuck myself: Yeah, your girlfriend must be so proud of you. You're not even an original cusser. You know, if you're going to be foul mouthed with me, you could at least be creative about it. Using variations on 'fuck' every third word does not make you sound dangerous, it makes you sound like an uneducated retard. Try for some originality! At least that would make me laugh, and I might even file away a particularly tasty phrase for later use. The fuck word is overused and boring at this point, and only advertises what an uninteresting lay you must be. I hope your girlfriend gets a life and leaves you with no choice but talking dirty to your blowup dolls.
People who are buying drugs while I am trying to talk to you: Okay, I am not an idiot. I know what a bong sounds like when it is being cleared; I went to college. That I don't mind. It rather amuses me, actually. Makes me think of all those stoner boys I hung out with in the dorms. But please don't make me interrupt an obvious drug deal. I don't need to hear you and your dealer arguing over whether you want a half or a quarter, okay? I see that sort of thing often enough in the movies, I don't need to hear it in real life!
Ok here's one for you impatient snots: I have certain scripts that I have to say on the phone. Don't worry, they only take a couple of seconds each. But I HAVE to say them. I get bad grades on my calls if I don't. So don't cut me off and snap at me to hurry up, you frog snogging bitch. If you think I am going to skip the scripts and fail this call just because you're too impatient to let me do my job properly, well you can eat shit and go bark at the moon. I HURRY FOR NO ONE. Especially not some brainless, spoiled, squeaky voiced entitlement whore who thinks the sun rises and sets in her Victoria's Secret underpants. I got news for you, Britney: "trophy wife" is your probable fate. Remember to brush up on those fellatio skills, cause you're gonna need them to keep him interested.
Racist old ladies: I hate dealing with you. I don't care how much you hate foreigners, so shut your pie hole! Do you really think you are the only person I've had to listen to this week rant at me because they had to talk to someone with an accent? Why do you inbred lemmings think that ranting to me about it is gonna do you a damn bit of good? Believe me, if I had any control over who we hired, I would not waste it keeping foreigners out of the call center. Instead, that brainless, braless wonder at the command center desk would not be sitting there filing her nails and letting all the fat fucks look down her shirt as they walk in. I'd hire a big, mean looking dyke who calls herself 'Jeff' to sit up there and glare at everyone all day, and instruct her to scream at the guys if they don't acknowledge her when they walk in. I'd then park my sorry ass in a desk close by and bask in the hilarity of it all. So please, leave me out of your xenophobic ranting. I like diversity, it keeps things entertaining.
Even more fun are the ones who think they are too good to talk to me. Look, Paris, I don't care if you are on a business call, I have to do my job, and whining, bitching, sighing and calling me names is not gonna get you your minutes faster. If anything it will make me go slower just so I can prolong your misery the way you are prolonging mine. Get a grip. You are using a shitty prepaid cell phone to run your half-assed wedding dress business. I got news for you, you ain't no Ralph Lauren, bitch. Suck it up and let me do my job.
My job has just installed a hand sanitizer next to the time clock. Are they trying to tell us something? Apparently it's a hint that we should stop slathering shit all over our hands before we come back to our desks from our bathroom breaks. Has this really been a problem here? Cause I had no idea. I will have to remember not to clip my toenails or treat my genital warts while at my desk, I guess. Sometimes corporate just really confuses me.
Someday I'm gonna invent a phone that will allow me to reach through the phone and bitchslap people who desperately need it. "But I don't waaaaaanaaaaaaa do this." SLAP! "You will give me what I want right now, goddammit." SLAP! "If you won't give me what I want, then give me to someone who will." SLAP! "It's your fault my kid stole my money." SLAP! I'm telling you, not only would I make millions, I'd be a hero to phone reps everywhere. They'd have my picture on the wall of every call center in the world. There would be parades in my honor. People would refuse phone jobs unless one of my patented Slapper Phones™ was promised as part of the equipment.
Yes, even I, with my shrunken little black heart, can still dream.
and some 
stat!
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