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To the bigoted lady on the call floor: How dare you insult my friends like that! Those two beautiful Black Muslim women on the floor are very nice, and I enjoy talking to them on my break. The fact that they wear headscarves does not make them terrorists, no matter how much verbal diarrhea comes out of your mouth. Yes, I complimented them on their clothing. Both of them dress impeccably, and their clothes and hijabs are always made of the most beautiful, vibrant, interesting fabrics. You wander around in wrinkled, sweat stained stirrup pants and a shirt that was once white, I think, but now resembles the skin on a drowned hog. Perhaps you should take a dressing lesson from them, as well as a lesson in behaving gracefully when confronted with a racist, mouth-foaming, wild-eyed bitch. If you speak to them like that again I will take you out in the parking lot and give the cops a reason to charge me with assault!
To my lead who is going to Paris for a week: Thanks for leaving me stuck here doing your job for no raise in pay while you’re out chasing down Parisian gay boys. I really appreciate it. I was annoyed when our supervisor asked me to fill in for you, but assumed it was his idea, since I am the most mature person on graveyard and have the best stats. Then I discovered that you specifically recommended me to him. This, of course, was after you and I had discussed, laughing, at great length, what a thankless job that was going to be and how I didn’t envy the person who got stuck with it. YOU SUCK. I hope you get a nasty disease and are barred from coming back to this country permanently.
To Mr. Jensen: My name is not honey. It is not doll. It is not babe. And it most certainly is not sweetcheeks. Try calling me that again. Just try it. I will reach right through this phone and bitchslap you so hard you’ll have to take off your shoes just to shit. I hope a wolverine eats your cell phone and you get the bright idea to stick your hands down its throat to get it back.
To my newest coworker: YOU ARE NOT BETTER THAN US. Don't act like you are. Your manners are atrocious and your mouth is even worse. The fact that your wannabe pimp/sugar-daddy buys you expensive name brand clothes and jewelry does not give you leave to walk around here with your nose in the air. No matter how much money you spend on those damn clothes, you still have no taste. In fact your taste in fashion reminds me of Eddy on Ab Fab; badly fitted, hilariously mismatched, and totally inappropriate for your age and your size. Go stick your head in the toilet and flush. Repeatedly.
To the girl with the calling card: You know who you are. Yeah, you, the one who yelled at me when your idiotic boyfriend tried to flirt with me on the phone. Chill the fuck out, your boytoy has about 3 brain cells! I have more brain cells than that in my ass, thank you very much. Threatening me in your gang chick slang---or whatever that attempt at language was---was hilarious. I gave you your damn minutes, now get off my phone and go back to calling sluts-r-us and demanding your paycheck for that bachelor party you just entertained.
To the Asian lady with the selective memory: Don't even think about trying that shit with me. You spoke perfect, albeit accented, English until I told you I needed to speak to your boyfriend cause you were using his credit card. Suddenly it's "Me no speek Eeengleesh! Minutes! Need minutes! No! No Engleesh! Minutes, yes?" Like I'm stuck in a Monty Python sketch on acid or something. Go to the damn store and tell them your name is Henry. I'm sure they'll believe you.
To Ms. Glasscock: STOP CALLING! You are not going to get what you want. Calling us every ten minutes and cussing until we hang up is not going to wear us down. Calling back and escalating repeatedly to try and get someone who can help you is not gonna work. It is 3 o'clock in the goddamn morning here, there are no suits above my immediate supervisor here at this hour. Childish insults just make us laugh. Calling us on one phone, calling your cardholder friend on another phone, and holding the two phones together so we can hear each other is not gonna work. Either have your friend call in himself or JUST GIVE UP! Get a grip, lady. Your anxiety and anger over this is way out of proportion to this situation. And your voice is annoying too. I've spoken to you 6 times tonight and you just refuse to quit! What, do you think "7th times gonna be a charm! You're gonna give me what I want this time If I am just annoying enough!"? I'm sorry, life doesn't work that way. Go play in traffic, bitch.
4 more hours. Just 4 more hours, and I am free for 3 whole nights. I can go lock myself in my apartment and gorge on popsicles until I die of brain freeze.
To my lead who is going to Paris for a week: Thanks for leaving me stuck here doing your job for no raise in pay while you’re out chasing down Parisian gay boys. I really appreciate it. I was annoyed when our supervisor asked me to fill in for you, but assumed it was his idea, since I am the most mature person on graveyard and have the best stats. Then I discovered that you specifically recommended me to him. This, of course, was after you and I had discussed, laughing, at great length, what a thankless job that was going to be and how I didn’t envy the person who got stuck with it. YOU SUCK. I hope you get a nasty disease and are barred from coming back to this country permanently.
To Mr. Jensen: My name is not honey. It is not doll. It is not babe. And it most certainly is not sweetcheeks. Try calling me that again. Just try it. I will reach right through this phone and bitchslap you so hard you’ll have to take off your shoes just to shit. I hope a wolverine eats your cell phone and you get the bright idea to stick your hands down its throat to get it back.
To my newest coworker: YOU ARE NOT BETTER THAN US. Don't act like you are. Your manners are atrocious and your mouth is even worse. The fact that your wannabe pimp/sugar-daddy buys you expensive name brand clothes and jewelry does not give you leave to walk around here with your nose in the air. No matter how much money you spend on those damn clothes, you still have no taste. In fact your taste in fashion reminds me of Eddy on Ab Fab; badly fitted, hilariously mismatched, and totally inappropriate for your age and your size. Go stick your head in the toilet and flush. Repeatedly.
To the girl with the calling card: You know who you are. Yeah, you, the one who yelled at me when your idiotic boyfriend tried to flirt with me on the phone. Chill the fuck out, your boytoy has about 3 brain cells! I have more brain cells than that in my ass, thank you very much. Threatening me in your gang chick slang---or whatever that attempt at language was---was hilarious. I gave you your damn minutes, now get off my phone and go back to calling sluts-r-us and demanding your paycheck for that bachelor party you just entertained.
To the Asian lady with the selective memory: Don't even think about trying that shit with me. You spoke perfect, albeit accented, English until I told you I needed to speak to your boyfriend cause you were using his credit card. Suddenly it's "Me no speek Eeengleesh! Minutes! Need minutes! No! No Engleesh! Minutes, yes?" Like I'm stuck in a Monty Python sketch on acid or something. Go to the damn store and tell them your name is Henry. I'm sure they'll believe you.
To Ms. Glasscock: STOP CALLING! You are not going to get what you want. Calling us every ten minutes and cussing until we hang up is not going to wear us down. Calling back and escalating repeatedly to try and get someone who can help you is not gonna work. It is 3 o'clock in the goddamn morning here, there are no suits above my immediate supervisor here at this hour. Childish insults just make us laugh. Calling us on one phone, calling your cardholder friend on another phone, and holding the two phones together so we can hear each other is not gonna work. Either have your friend call in himself or JUST GIVE UP! Get a grip, lady. Your anxiety and anger over this is way out of proportion to this situation. And your voice is annoying too. I've spoken to you 6 times tonight and you just refuse to quit! What, do you think "7th times gonna be a charm! You're gonna give me what I want this time If I am just annoying enough!"? I'm sorry, life doesn't work that way. Go play in traffic, bitch.
4 more hours. Just 4 more hours, and I am free for 3 whole nights. I can go lock myself in my apartment and gorge on popsicles until I die of brain freeze.
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