I will try to keep this short and sweet, as I want to post it before it sinks into the murkiness of yesterday. I have acquired someone's pestilence and it makes me feel like reheated ass.
I have been sick since last night, and would have called in today were it not my beloved Saturday. Remedial counter day. Only two parts guys day. I had to go in.
8 o'clock means exactly that
This knuckle licker was waiting outside at 7:45. Outside his truck, in 40 degrees F with a slight breeze. Somewhat cold. We open at 8, no matter how many of you are standing at the gate with a ravenous look. Deal with it.
I open the door, and he nearly knocks me over getting inside. Did I mention I feel like crap?
He then goes on a rant about how cold it is and how we should have let him in. My coworker asked why he didn't just wait in his truck. No good reason other than "bad customer service". Right. I spoke to him not at all. Feel like crap.
Oh my God it's the funky shit!
This next SC I will refer to as "Miss Thang". She was a white girl decked out like Fubu was giving her contingency money, and she has some truly bitchin' cornrows.
MT: Yo, whatz da warranty in dis?<hands me a three year old receipt for an alternator>
Me: Expired. <I feel like crap>
MT: Das' bullshit, yo.
Me: 12 months on over the counter parts. <achey>
MT: Ya'll should give me a free one, yo.
Me: No. <sore>
MT: Maybe I get it at Kragen, den.
Me: OK <go away>
How many bets that she had about 1000w of "phat beatz" straining the crap out of her electrical system?
Peckerwood hillbilly
I live nowhere near the south. I'm sure a southern drawl is quite common below the mason-dixon line, but here it means profound stupidity.
PWH: Kin ya'll cut a keeee fer mah truck?
Me: What year is it?
PWH: 1982.
Me: Do you have a key or did you lose them? <I already know the answer to this
>
PWH: Ah lawst 'em.
Me: Call a locksmith.
PWH: Dey wants $300!!
Me: I'm sure they do. Good day.
I can't magically get key codes for old junk, no matter how much the evil locksmith is going to charge you or how much you whine. Suck it up.
Parts for Jesus
I've truncated this call because it was relatively normal until the last few seconds.
Me: I would need to order that for you.
PJ: Oh, Jesus won't be happy with me.
Me: Pardon?
PJ: If I don't fix this today I can't go to church tomorrow.
Me: Sorry for the inconvenience.
PJ: What would you do if you couldn't get to church?
Me: I don't go to church.
PJ: HERESY!!!!!!! GAAAHHHHH<click>
Right-o.
This is longer than I wanted it to be. Back to the couch with me.

I have been sick since last night, and would have called in today were it not my beloved Saturday. Remedial counter day. Only two parts guys day. I had to go in.
8 o'clock means exactly that
This knuckle licker was waiting outside at 7:45. Outside his truck, in 40 degrees F with a slight breeze. Somewhat cold. We open at 8, no matter how many of you are standing at the gate with a ravenous look. Deal with it.
I open the door, and he nearly knocks me over getting inside. Did I mention I feel like crap?
He then goes on a rant about how cold it is and how we should have let him in. My coworker asked why he didn't just wait in his truck. No good reason other than "bad customer service". Right. I spoke to him not at all. Feel like crap.
Oh my God it's the funky shit!
This next SC I will refer to as "Miss Thang". She was a white girl decked out like Fubu was giving her contingency money, and she has some truly bitchin' cornrows.
MT: Yo, whatz da warranty in dis?<hands me a three year old receipt for an alternator>
Me: Expired. <I feel like crap>
MT: Das' bullshit, yo.
Me: 12 months on over the counter parts. <achey>
MT: Ya'll should give me a free one, yo.
Me: No. <sore>
MT: Maybe I get it at Kragen, den.
Me: OK <go away>
How many bets that she had about 1000w of "phat beatz" straining the crap out of her electrical system?
Peckerwood hillbilly
I live nowhere near the south. I'm sure a southern drawl is quite common below the mason-dixon line, but here it means profound stupidity.
PWH: Kin ya'll cut a keeee fer mah truck?
Me: What year is it?
PWH: 1982.
Me: Do you have a key or did you lose them? <I already know the answer to this

PWH: Ah lawst 'em.
Me: Call a locksmith.
PWH: Dey wants $300!!
Me: I'm sure they do. Good day.
I can't magically get key codes for old junk, no matter how much the evil locksmith is going to charge you or how much you whine. Suck it up.
Parts for Jesus
I've truncated this call because it was relatively normal until the last few seconds.
Me: I would need to order that for you.
PJ: Oh, Jesus won't be happy with me.
Me: Pardon?
PJ: If I don't fix this today I can't go to church tomorrow.
Me: Sorry for the inconvenience.
PJ: What would you do if you couldn't get to church?
Me: I don't go to church.
PJ: HERESY!!!!!!! GAAAHHHHH<click>
Right-o.

This is longer than I wanted it to be. Back to the couch with me.
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