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<twitch>
867 - The Conspiracy
Me: “Ok, and the ID number please?”
SC: “It’s xxxx-xx”
Me: “Ok, and what size would you like?”
SC: “…..uh….do you need the ID?”
Me: “…no, what size would you like?”
Sometimes I wonder if I myself am not slowly becoming less intelligent as the constant exposure to you and your ilk’s limited mental capabilities wears down my own mind. I worry that someday I too might begin trying to order things by phone while holding the catalogue upside down and trying to lick my own ear while I talk. Perhaps all of my theories regarding why you and your kind ended up as you did are incorrect: Whether it be brain damage, head injuries, startlingly persistent inbreeding, paint huffing or just something in the water. Perhaps none of these is the correct answer.
Perhaps it’s something else entirely. Something darker and more sinister. An elaborate conspiracy perpetrated by the customer service industry. Perhaps when you finally wear my brain down to an infantile level then I will be set upon as I sleep, bound, gagged and shipped to a nice little trailer home somewhere in Nunavut as a “retirement package.”. With nothing but a phone, a 6 pack, a catalogue and a TV that I need a butter knife to change the channel on.
Perhaps Nunavut is not a bastion of stupidity as I once thought. Perhaps its where CSR’s go to die.
Close Call
SC: “Yes, my name is Wesley.”
Me: “Ok-“
SC: “That’s Wesley with a W”
Whew, thanks, here I was reaching for X. Good thing you stopped me! You were almost Xesley.
Dropping the Soap
SC: “Yeah, I’m in jail and I need to talk to <lawyer>”
Me: “Ok, let me-“
SC: “How long do I have to staaaay heeeeere?!”
Hopefully long enough for some large, sweaty man ape of a cell mate to repeatedly and vigorously redefine the term “cuddling” for you until the very sound of someone rolling over in a bunk bed makes you curl into a ball and bite the pillow out of reflex.
Make Believe
( This guys calling for maintenance crew for his building..... )
Me: “Ok, and what’s the address of the building?”
SC: “What? Address?! I don’t care about that!”
…well, I do. Or rather, the client does. So, I’m afraid you’re going to have to do what I have to do every time someone, such as yourself, calls me here: Take a deep breath, make sure there’s something suitably choke-able within arm’s reach, swallow the bitter bile of disgust that bubbles up in your throat and at least try to pretend you care.
I’m very good at pretending.
That's Not What I'm Here For
Me: “Good evening, <my company>.”
SC: “Uh, what is this?”
Me: “This is <my company>.”
SC: “What state is this?”
Me: “This is Vancouver, BC. Canada.”
SC: “um….uh…am I calling a place?”
Me: “…yes, British Columbia, Canada.”
SC: “Oh, what’s it like up there?”
Me: “…..”
SC: “…..”
Me: “Ok, is there something I can help you with?”
SC: “Uh….I dunno.”
Me: “Ok, goodbye then! <click>”
I am not paid to chitchat with you. Nor am I paid to indulge your intoxicated dribble wit conversation. Technically, I suppose you could say I am kind of being paid to entertain others by mocking your intoxicated dribble wit conversation. In which case, I suppose I should thank you for your patronage. I am nothing if not polite, so thank you for being an intoxicated, possibly inbred diesel huffing pub walrus with a cell phone. It’s fairly profitable for me and entertaining for the company as a whole.
867
Me: “Ok, and your phone number please?”
SC: “xxx-xxxx”
Me: “Ok, and the area code on the phone number?”
SC: “Uh……pwah ( Yes…”pwah” )……wait a minute.”
Me: “Ok”
( From what I can tell the caller summoned two others to huddle in a circle and try to crack the Da Vinci Area Code. This muffled, confused discussion goes on for a minute or two. )
SC: “Alright, it’s <postal code>”
Me: “….alright, but what’s the area code for your phone number?”
SC: “…..um……pwah……”
( PWAH! )
SC: “uhhh……..wait”
( I assume the next few moments were spend evading the attacks of a shadowy albino assailant. )
SC: “xxx?”
Me: "Thank you."
If you ever do try to find the descendants of your messiah it shouldn’t be too hard. Because I’m pretty sure the family tree didn’t fork and they never managed to make it more than 5 miles from where he was originally born. So the Second Coming is probably that guy that lives down by the river in the rusted out husk of an old ‘78 Buick just outside of town with dog named “Get Daddy Another Beer”.
Hello again
( Different lawyer's office. )
SC: “I’m in jail and I need to-“
Wait, I know you. Hello again! How’s that drug trafficking charge working out for you? Still in jail, eh? Well, let me be honest with you here. Drug trafficking isn’t really the kind of charge you can just pay a fine on and be out in a couple hours. You’re going to be there for a while. Probably long enough to toss a salad or too. So you better get cozy.
I hope you like the taste of maple syrup.
Ugh, it Bred
Please stop trying to use your 4 year old as a PDA. As cute as she is she should not be the one calling me ( The question “Are you calling to book a room?” illicits stunned confusion from a 4 year old, btw ) and you certainly shouldn’t be trying to have her write down the confirmation code and phone number because you’re too busy talking down to the baggage claim guy to bother talking to me. That was also very nice of you, by the way, talking to both of us at once and not even moving the phone away from your head when you did. So neither of us had any friggan idea which of us you were talking too. Only that you were being a condescending entitlement whore to us both.
In closing you suck at life and I pity your minut girl slave, er, child.
Patience
SC: "Yes, I called for a tech like 15 minutes ago and no one's called me back yet! This is an emergency!"
Easy there, Fuckaleupagus. It was actually 3 minutes and 47 seconds according to my system stamp. Considering it's 3am maybe you should give the on call tech enough time to at least roll out of bed and find the phone before you start pissing and moaning.
Visual Aid
( This is a tech support account, they're just suppose to call in, explain the problem, I take a message, page the tech, tech calls them back. End of transaction. )
Since I cannot accurately describe my aggravation at the 10 minute "conversation" I had with the caller I have instead prepared this handy call flowchart for you:
Yes, I’m aware there’s no way to get to “Hang up and wait for a call back.”. Painfully aware.
867 - The Conspiracy
Me: “Ok, and the ID number please?”
SC: “It’s xxxx-xx”
Me: “Ok, and what size would you like?”
SC: “…..uh….do you need the ID?”
Me: “…no, what size would you like?”
Sometimes I wonder if I myself am not slowly becoming less intelligent as the constant exposure to you and your ilk’s limited mental capabilities wears down my own mind. I worry that someday I too might begin trying to order things by phone while holding the catalogue upside down and trying to lick my own ear while I talk. Perhaps all of my theories regarding why you and your kind ended up as you did are incorrect: Whether it be brain damage, head injuries, startlingly persistent inbreeding, paint huffing or just something in the water. Perhaps none of these is the correct answer.
Perhaps it’s something else entirely. Something darker and more sinister. An elaborate conspiracy perpetrated by the customer service industry. Perhaps when you finally wear my brain down to an infantile level then I will be set upon as I sleep, bound, gagged and shipped to a nice little trailer home somewhere in Nunavut as a “retirement package.”. With nothing but a phone, a 6 pack, a catalogue and a TV that I need a butter knife to change the channel on.
Perhaps Nunavut is not a bastion of stupidity as I once thought. Perhaps its where CSR’s go to die.
Close Call
SC: “Yes, my name is Wesley.”
Me: “Ok-“
SC: “That’s Wesley with a W”
Whew, thanks, here I was reaching for X. Good thing you stopped me! You were almost Xesley.
Dropping the Soap
SC: “Yeah, I’m in jail and I need to talk to <lawyer>”
Me: “Ok, let me-“
SC: “How long do I have to staaaay heeeeere?!”
Hopefully long enough for some large, sweaty man ape of a cell mate to repeatedly and vigorously redefine the term “cuddling” for you until the very sound of someone rolling over in a bunk bed makes you curl into a ball and bite the pillow out of reflex.
Make Believe
( This guys calling for maintenance crew for his building..... )
Me: “Ok, and what’s the address of the building?”
SC: “What? Address?! I don’t care about that!”
…well, I do. Or rather, the client does. So, I’m afraid you’re going to have to do what I have to do every time someone, such as yourself, calls me here: Take a deep breath, make sure there’s something suitably choke-able within arm’s reach, swallow the bitter bile of disgust that bubbles up in your throat and at least try to pretend you care.
I’m very good at pretending.
That's Not What I'm Here For
Me: “Good evening, <my company>.”
SC: “Uh, what is this?”
Me: “This is <my company>.”
SC: “What state is this?”
Me: “This is Vancouver, BC. Canada.”
SC: “um….uh…am I calling a place?”
Me: “…yes, British Columbia, Canada.”
SC: “Oh, what’s it like up there?”
Me: “…..”
SC: “…..”
Me: “Ok, is there something I can help you with?”
SC: “Uh….I dunno.”
Me: “Ok, goodbye then! <click>”
I am not paid to chitchat with you. Nor am I paid to indulge your intoxicated dribble wit conversation. Technically, I suppose you could say I am kind of being paid to entertain others by mocking your intoxicated dribble wit conversation. In which case, I suppose I should thank you for your patronage. I am nothing if not polite, so thank you for being an intoxicated, possibly inbred diesel huffing pub walrus with a cell phone. It’s fairly profitable for me and entertaining for the company as a whole.
867
Me: “Ok, and your phone number please?”
SC: “xxx-xxxx”
Me: “Ok, and the area code on the phone number?”
SC: “Uh……pwah ( Yes…”pwah” )……wait a minute.”
Me: “Ok”
( From what I can tell the caller summoned two others to huddle in a circle and try to crack the Da Vinci Area Code. This muffled, confused discussion goes on for a minute or two. )
SC: “Alright, it’s <postal code>”
Me: “….alright, but what’s the area code for your phone number?”
SC: “…..um……pwah……”
( PWAH! )
SC: “uhhh……..wait”
( I assume the next few moments were spend evading the attacks of a shadowy albino assailant. )
SC: “xxx?”
Me: "Thank you."
If you ever do try to find the descendants of your messiah it shouldn’t be too hard. Because I’m pretty sure the family tree didn’t fork and they never managed to make it more than 5 miles from where he was originally born. So the Second Coming is probably that guy that lives down by the river in the rusted out husk of an old ‘78 Buick just outside of town with dog named “Get Daddy Another Beer”.
Hello again
( Different lawyer's office. )
SC: “I’m in jail and I need to-“
Wait, I know you. Hello again! How’s that drug trafficking charge working out for you? Still in jail, eh? Well, let me be honest with you here. Drug trafficking isn’t really the kind of charge you can just pay a fine on and be out in a couple hours. You’re going to be there for a while. Probably long enough to toss a salad or too. So you better get cozy.
I hope you like the taste of maple syrup.
Ugh, it Bred
Please stop trying to use your 4 year old as a PDA. As cute as she is she should not be the one calling me ( The question “Are you calling to book a room?” illicits stunned confusion from a 4 year old, btw ) and you certainly shouldn’t be trying to have her write down the confirmation code and phone number because you’re too busy talking down to the baggage claim guy to bother talking to me. That was also very nice of you, by the way, talking to both of us at once and not even moving the phone away from your head when you did. So neither of us had any friggan idea which of us you were talking too. Only that you were being a condescending entitlement whore to us both.
In closing you suck at life and I pity your minut girl slave, er, child.
Patience
SC: "Yes, I called for a tech like 15 minutes ago and no one's called me back yet! This is an emergency!"
Easy there, Fuckaleupagus. It was actually 3 minutes and 47 seconds according to my system stamp. Considering it's 3am maybe you should give the on call tech enough time to at least roll out of bed and find the phone before you start pissing and moaning.
Visual Aid
( This is a tech support account, they're just suppose to call in, explain the problem, I take a message, page the tech, tech calls them back. End of transaction. )
Since I cannot accurately describe my aggravation at the 10 minute "conversation" I had with the caller I have instead prepared this handy call flowchart for you:
Yes, I’m aware there’s no way to get to “Hang up and wait for a call back.”. Painfully aware.
There's audio of a GK call? Where?
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