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Ugh, Hellish week at work. Though its not entirely my caller's faults -.-
How Did You Even Find the Plane?
Me: “Good evening, <hotel reservation service>. Are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “I got stuck here at the airport due to weather cancellations and my luggage hasn’t arrived yet.”
Me: “Ok, are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “My luggage isn’t here yet.”
Me: “…Ok, but do you need a hotel room?”
SC: "No!"
Me: "....then what exactly can I help you with?"
SC: “What happened to my luggage!?”
If there’s any justice in this world it’s slowly being permeated by a mixture of swamp water and cow manure in the ditch of some farmer’s field somewhere in South Dakota after it plummeted to earth. Come day break the father’s children will discover it and the vast array of important business documents as well as your $3000 laptop and they shall become a formidable paper airplane squadron and the best Frisbee ever respectively. Once their father gets home he will find the remains of everything they were playing with then make fun of your choice of cloths to his wife and the size of your underwear to his children. Much merriment will be had by all.
So I don’t know precisely what happened to your luggage but I do know what I hope happened to your luggage. Whether or not this information is actually useful to you is another matter.
Clarifications
“and the address please?”
“MacDonald road. Road, like road.”
Thanks for clearing that up. Here I was about to type in “MacDonald Caribou”. Good thing you clarified it and caught me in time.
A Bit More Specific?
SC: “Our flight was canceled and now we’re here at the airport. Can you get us a room?”
You’re going to have to be a bit more specific then “the airport”. I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but all airports are not a single trans-dimensional hub from which you both depart and arrive yet never actually go anywhere. The fact you went to an airport, got on a plane, and flew too another completely different looking airport with different names on the signs really should have clued you in that there’s more than one of these strange, iron bird docks.
Reality Is a Harsh Mistress
SC: “I don’t have my credit card, but I want 3 lottery tickets.”
You may want to brace yourself then. I’m going to have to introduce you to the cold, hard, dark, slightly moist wall of reality you’re about to slam up against. Try and grit your teeth before you hit so you don’t lose any or bite your tongue.
From the Jaws of Gamblor
2 lottery tickets….you can get 3 tickets for the same price as 2, you know. But no….2 tickets. Because 2 single tickets might be separate ticket numbers which are somehow more lucky then sequential numbers. See, a 3 pack would be sequential. Which is no better than just having a single ticket because as we all know sequential tickets are the very font of misfortune. I don’t know why people even buy them. I mean they bring only sadness and misfortune.
They’d probably fall off of the top of the fridge to the kitchen floor where the cat would attempt to ingest them, choke, run around the house in a panic, tripping your wife at the top of the staircase where she would then stumble and plummet two flights down and land in just the right way in order to sever her spine and cripple her for life. Oh, and she weas smoking and now the cigarette fell onto the carpet but your wifeis maimed and can’t move, she can only watch as the carpet slowly smolders, bursts into flames and burns the house down around with her and the cat while both spend their final moments silently pleading for you to rescue them you never do.
Then you come home to a burnt out husk of ash and sadness with the only thing that survived being a single lottery ticket out of the three that managed to slip under the fridge which is what you should have ordered in the first place instead of the sequential 3 pack you fool.
Thank you!
Me: “Good evening, <company>. Are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “Book a room? I don’t understand.”
Finally, some honesty. Admitting it is the first step to getting help. The second step is hanging up the phone and never calling me again. The third step involves a blindfold and a busy intersection, but we’ll take it one at a time.
867
“If I order it, can I spend the money?”
“…pardon?”
….what…? If you order it…you have to save the money so you can pay for it when it gets there. We actually need the money in exchange for the items. You don’t have to just prove you have it, you actually have to give it to us. This is how the basic exchange of goods and services works. You want pants. We want shinies. If you have shinies, you can give them to us and we’ll give you pants. Then you can unwrap them, sniff the groin for a few minutes to make sure no one else has ever worn them and then try to put them on over your head. Or whatever it is you do with them.
867
SC: “Whats that thing? You know that thing where I give cash when it gets here. I wanna do that.”
Me: “….cash on delivery?”
SC: “Yeah!”
Well ok, but remember you have to save the money until it arrives. You can’t go blowing it all on pantyhose and aerosol cheese again otherwise the post office won’t give you the pants. You do want the pants, don’t you?
867
It is 3am. Your children are still loudly and obviously awake. Please flog, incarcerate or heavily sedate them then call back. Your current method of merely screaming at them like an enraged baboon every 10 seconds mid sentence just isn’t working for me.
Hot Tips for America
SC: “I’m trying to find out what happened in 91 and 97.”
Me: “…alright?”
SC: “I’ve called every law enforcement agency in Canada and they won’t tell me anything. They just keep stonewalling me.”
Me: “…..”
SC: “Maybe you can help me find out what happened in 91 and 97.”
Me: “….what...specifically?”
SC: “<whispers> At Hayden.”
Me: “….I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to tell you either.”
( ITS TOP SEKRET )
SC: “You can’t tell me either? Well why are all Canadian law offices not telling me?”
Me: “I wouldn’t know. This is the US <client>. Not the Canadian <client>.”
SC: “Oh. Well I called your office in Washington and they put me through to some really high level officials.”
Me: “Mhmm.”
SC: “Should I call your Washington office again?”
Me: “I highly doubt they’d be able to help you.”
I’m not sure any of our offices can provide the type of help you actually need. But, on the upside if you keep persistently calling them I’m sure one way or another you’ll be forced into getting the kind of help in question. So keep it up, Sparky.
SOS America
Let’s see if I have the facts straight….
1) You’re friends with an FBI agent.
2) and the Embassy
3) You have coffee with them all the time.
4) Now the Canadian government is screwing with you.
5) They’ve arrested you and you’re in custody.
6) You want me to call the FBI on your behalf and tell them to help you.
Now, I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and ask if I could speak with the officer there regarding your arrest. Well, ok, no I wasn’t, I just wanted to find out what they really picked you up for. I’m guessing it was something more along the lines of they had to pick you up in front of the Starbucks on Granville after you stripped to your underwear, rubbed a Fudgesicle into your nutsack and started trying to paint “MOCCA IS MURDER” on the windows with your crotch. Unfortunately the arch of the M was a bit too tall for you to reach so they probably pulled up when you were awkwardly hop-humping the glass.
But as it turns out the “officer” in the background didn’t want to talk to you, or me, and strangely enough sounded more like a nurse trying to get you to put the phone down and come take your meds then a police officer. Fancy that.
I May Not Be a Doctor...
Hello to you, unshaven baseball cap man sitting in front of me on the Skytrain. It is me, the geekish creature behind you. Now, before I saw anything else let me say this: Technically I am not a doctor, paramedic or even a registered nurse. That being said, that thing on your face? That, my friend, desperately needs stitches. It looks like it could have used them about 3 days ago to be exact. I do admire what you tried to do by keeping the wound closed with badly placed scotch tape but I think you really should seek proper medical assistance. Also, my God. Shave your back. Its waving to me from your shirt collar.
Gee, I Wonder
SC: “Why is the fire alarm going off?”
…..ok, in all honest if you don’t know what sets a fire alarm off, you really don’t deserve too. In fact just stay inside and lock yourself in the most poorly ventilated room in the house. Don’t worry, you’re helping make the world a better place.
Nice Try
Odd, your “I was up all night sick with a stomach ache” sounds suspiciously like “I’m currently partying at a club with my friends”. But I could be mistaken. I mean, maybe inviting 20 drunken friends over and putting on awful awful techno music is some sort of home remedy for stomach aches from the Old Country that I’m unaware of. Also, for the record, it’s only 1am. That hardly counts as “All night” and your shift is at 10am anyway. Nice try though.
My Feelings, They Hurt.
Me: “Good evening, <company>.”
SC: “Hi.”
Me: “Hello, can I help you?”
SC: “Is this Katie?”
…of all the things I’ve been called over the years, strangely, this one hurts the most.
Office Chat
( CW being coworker of course )
Me: "I don't think I can slip this into my shift report...."
CW: "What?"
Me: "The "Bite the pillow kid, ITS GOING IN DRY!" part."
CW: "........what!?"
<My coworker valiantly fights for composure..>
Me: "So no?"
CW: "No, no I don't think you can."
Me: "What about "Cunt Chute"?"
CW: "......"
Me: "Fuckcake?"
We are a disturbed lot, we are.
Right.
SC: “Yeah, you guys called me and asked a bunch a questions. So now I’ve had a few beer and I’m calling you to bug you and ask you a bunch a questions.”
That’s very nice. Your first question can be “Did he just hang up on me?”.
( For the record we only do outbound calls to our clients. So whatever this fuckcake was being called for its because it was his job to answer. )
867
Ah, thank you for demeaning us both as human beings by ordering Pimpjuice I really appreciate it.
I So Don't Care
Me: “Good evening, <client>. Are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “My flight was canceled so I’m stuck here.”
Me: “Ok, are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “I’m here in the airport now.”
Me: “Alright, are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “They gave me this coupon with your number on it.”
Me: “Yes, are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “I missed my connector so now I have to wait till the next flight out.”
Me: “Ok, but are you calling to book a room?”
Oh my God. For the love of all that’s holy and its extended family right down to little Susie’s goldfish would you just answer the fscking question please? It’s a simple yes or no question. I didn’t ask for your entire sob story. That’s why we ask “Are you calling to book a room” at the first of the call. So you can say yes or no. Period. If we wanted your sob story we’d say “Good morning, <client>, are you calling because you need someone to whine too? Because I’m willing and able. No, really, go on, please, waste the next 15 minutes of my life with your meaningless prattle. It’s not like I was going to use them anyway.”
and I am once again free~
How Did You Even Find the Plane?
Me: “Good evening, <hotel reservation service>. Are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “I got stuck here at the airport due to weather cancellations and my luggage hasn’t arrived yet.”
Me: “Ok, are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “My luggage isn’t here yet.”
Me: “…Ok, but do you need a hotel room?”
SC: "No!"
Me: "....then what exactly can I help you with?"
SC: “What happened to my luggage!?”
If there’s any justice in this world it’s slowly being permeated by a mixture of swamp water and cow manure in the ditch of some farmer’s field somewhere in South Dakota after it plummeted to earth. Come day break the father’s children will discover it and the vast array of important business documents as well as your $3000 laptop and they shall become a formidable paper airplane squadron and the best Frisbee ever respectively. Once their father gets home he will find the remains of everything they were playing with then make fun of your choice of cloths to his wife and the size of your underwear to his children. Much merriment will be had by all.
So I don’t know precisely what happened to your luggage but I do know what I hope happened to your luggage. Whether or not this information is actually useful to you is another matter.
Clarifications
“and the address please?”
“MacDonald road. Road, like road.”
Thanks for clearing that up. Here I was about to type in “MacDonald Caribou”. Good thing you clarified it and caught me in time.
A Bit More Specific?
SC: “Our flight was canceled and now we’re here at the airport. Can you get us a room?”
You’re going to have to be a bit more specific then “the airport”. I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but all airports are not a single trans-dimensional hub from which you both depart and arrive yet never actually go anywhere. The fact you went to an airport, got on a plane, and flew too another completely different looking airport with different names on the signs really should have clued you in that there’s more than one of these strange, iron bird docks.
Reality Is a Harsh Mistress
SC: “I don’t have my credit card, but I want 3 lottery tickets.”
You may want to brace yourself then. I’m going to have to introduce you to the cold, hard, dark, slightly moist wall of reality you’re about to slam up against. Try and grit your teeth before you hit so you don’t lose any or bite your tongue.
From the Jaws of Gamblor
2 lottery tickets….you can get 3 tickets for the same price as 2, you know. But no….2 tickets. Because 2 single tickets might be separate ticket numbers which are somehow more lucky then sequential numbers. See, a 3 pack would be sequential. Which is no better than just having a single ticket because as we all know sequential tickets are the very font of misfortune. I don’t know why people even buy them. I mean they bring only sadness and misfortune.
They’d probably fall off of the top of the fridge to the kitchen floor where the cat would attempt to ingest them, choke, run around the house in a panic, tripping your wife at the top of the staircase where she would then stumble and plummet two flights down and land in just the right way in order to sever her spine and cripple her for life. Oh, and she weas smoking and now the cigarette fell onto the carpet but your wifeis maimed and can’t move, she can only watch as the carpet slowly smolders, bursts into flames and burns the house down around with her and the cat while both spend their final moments silently pleading for you to rescue them you never do.
Then you come home to a burnt out husk of ash and sadness with the only thing that survived being a single lottery ticket out of the three that managed to slip under the fridge which is what you should have ordered in the first place instead of the sequential 3 pack you fool.
Thank you!
Me: “Good evening, <company>. Are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “Book a room? I don’t understand.”
Finally, some honesty. Admitting it is the first step to getting help. The second step is hanging up the phone and never calling me again. The third step involves a blindfold and a busy intersection, but we’ll take it one at a time.
867
“If I order it, can I spend the money?”
“…pardon?”
….what…? If you order it…you have to save the money so you can pay for it when it gets there. We actually need the money in exchange for the items. You don’t have to just prove you have it, you actually have to give it to us. This is how the basic exchange of goods and services works. You want pants. We want shinies. If you have shinies, you can give them to us and we’ll give you pants. Then you can unwrap them, sniff the groin for a few minutes to make sure no one else has ever worn them and then try to put them on over your head. Or whatever it is you do with them.
867
SC: “Whats that thing? You know that thing where I give cash when it gets here. I wanna do that.”
Me: “….cash on delivery?”
SC: “Yeah!”
Well ok, but remember you have to save the money until it arrives. You can’t go blowing it all on pantyhose and aerosol cheese again otherwise the post office won’t give you the pants. You do want the pants, don’t you?
867
It is 3am. Your children are still loudly and obviously awake. Please flog, incarcerate or heavily sedate them then call back. Your current method of merely screaming at them like an enraged baboon every 10 seconds mid sentence just isn’t working for me.
Hot Tips for America
SC: “I’m trying to find out what happened in 91 and 97.”
Me: “…alright?”
SC: “I’ve called every law enforcement agency in Canada and they won’t tell me anything. They just keep stonewalling me.”
Me: “…..”
SC: “Maybe you can help me find out what happened in 91 and 97.”
Me: “….what...specifically?”
SC: “<whispers> At Hayden.”
Me: “….I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to tell you either.”
( ITS TOP SEKRET )
SC: “You can’t tell me either? Well why are all Canadian law offices not telling me?”
Me: “I wouldn’t know. This is the US <client>. Not the Canadian <client>.”
SC: “Oh. Well I called your office in Washington and they put me through to some really high level officials.”
Me: “Mhmm.”
SC: “Should I call your Washington office again?”
Me: “I highly doubt they’d be able to help you.”
I’m not sure any of our offices can provide the type of help you actually need. But, on the upside if you keep persistently calling them I’m sure one way or another you’ll be forced into getting the kind of help in question. So keep it up, Sparky.
SOS America
Let’s see if I have the facts straight….
1) You’re friends with an FBI agent.
2) and the Embassy
3) You have coffee with them all the time.
4) Now the Canadian government is screwing with you.
5) They’ve arrested you and you’re in custody.
6) You want me to call the FBI on your behalf and tell them to help you.
Now, I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and ask if I could speak with the officer there regarding your arrest. Well, ok, no I wasn’t, I just wanted to find out what they really picked you up for. I’m guessing it was something more along the lines of they had to pick you up in front of the Starbucks on Granville after you stripped to your underwear, rubbed a Fudgesicle into your nutsack and started trying to paint “MOCCA IS MURDER” on the windows with your crotch. Unfortunately the arch of the M was a bit too tall for you to reach so they probably pulled up when you were awkwardly hop-humping the glass.
But as it turns out the “officer” in the background didn’t want to talk to you, or me, and strangely enough sounded more like a nurse trying to get you to put the phone down and come take your meds then a police officer. Fancy that.
I May Not Be a Doctor...
Hello to you, unshaven baseball cap man sitting in front of me on the Skytrain. It is me, the geekish creature behind you. Now, before I saw anything else let me say this: Technically I am not a doctor, paramedic or even a registered nurse. That being said, that thing on your face? That, my friend, desperately needs stitches. It looks like it could have used them about 3 days ago to be exact. I do admire what you tried to do by keeping the wound closed with badly placed scotch tape but I think you really should seek proper medical assistance. Also, my God. Shave your back. Its waving to me from your shirt collar.
Gee, I Wonder
SC: “Why is the fire alarm going off?”
…..ok, in all honest if you don’t know what sets a fire alarm off, you really don’t deserve too. In fact just stay inside and lock yourself in the most poorly ventilated room in the house. Don’t worry, you’re helping make the world a better place.
Nice Try
Odd, your “I was up all night sick with a stomach ache” sounds suspiciously like “I’m currently partying at a club with my friends”. But I could be mistaken. I mean, maybe inviting 20 drunken friends over and putting on awful awful techno music is some sort of home remedy for stomach aches from the Old Country that I’m unaware of. Also, for the record, it’s only 1am. That hardly counts as “All night” and your shift is at 10am anyway. Nice try though.
My Feelings, They Hurt.
Me: “Good evening, <company>.”
SC: “Hi.”
Me: “Hello, can I help you?”
SC: “Is this Katie?”
…of all the things I’ve been called over the years, strangely, this one hurts the most.
Office Chat
( CW being coworker of course )
Me: "I don't think I can slip this into my shift report...."
CW: "What?"
Me: "The "Bite the pillow kid, ITS GOING IN DRY!" part."
CW: "........what!?"
<My coworker valiantly fights for composure..>
Me: "So no?"
CW: "No, no I don't think you can."
Me: "What about "Cunt Chute"?"
CW: "......"
Me: "Fuckcake?"
We are a disturbed lot, we are.
Right.
SC: “Yeah, you guys called me and asked a bunch a questions. So now I’ve had a few beer and I’m calling you to bug you and ask you a bunch a questions.”
That’s very nice. Your first question can be “Did he just hang up on me?”.
( For the record we only do outbound calls to our clients. So whatever this fuckcake was being called for its because it was his job to answer. )
867
Ah, thank you for demeaning us both as human beings by ordering Pimpjuice I really appreciate it.
I So Don't Care
Me: “Good evening, <client>. Are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “My flight was canceled so I’m stuck here.”
Me: “Ok, are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “I’m here in the airport now.”
Me: “Alright, are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “They gave me this coupon with your number on it.”
Me: “Yes, are you calling to book a room?”
SC: “I missed my connector so now I have to wait till the next flight out.”
Me: “Ok, but are you calling to book a room?”
Oh my God. For the love of all that’s holy and its extended family right down to little Susie’s goldfish would you just answer the fscking question please? It’s a simple yes or no question. I didn’t ask for your entire sob story. That’s why we ask “Are you calling to book a room” at the first of the call. So you can say yes or no. Period. If we wanted your sob story we’d say “Good morning, <client>, are you calling because you need someone to whine too? Because I’m willing and able. No, really, go on, please, waste the next 15 minutes of my life with your meaningless prattle. It’s not like I was going to use them anyway.”
and I am once again free~
How lazy can you get?
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