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For those of you that have always wondered..... ( Epic )
....what would happen if I began to unhinge on a caller. This is for you.
You see, this week, I got a stalker.
Bargain Pricing
Me: “Alright, thank you for calling than-“
SC: “Last year I won a watch! It was a really nice one.”
Yay? I’m not really sure what you want me to say here. You go girl? Happy One Year Dinky Prize Anniversary? Congratulations, you won a watch over a year ago. I’m sure it’s a very lovely watch. I’m also sure it only cost 1/5th of what you spent on tickets to win it. So you’re not exactly breaking even here. So this year you’d best aim just a little bit higher.
Judging from the prize list you must at least win an ultimate spa gift certificate. ( Retail value: $500! ). That is the first prize on the list that would eclipse your initial investment. That’s right, $500 worth of oily complete strangers rubbing you vigorously in places normally covered by clothing in polite society. At the ultimate spa, $500 will buy you around 45 minutes worth of stranger molestation. On Granville at 4am, $500 would likely get you a week’s worth of 2 hour sessions with a few freebies thrown in here and there. Sure, he won’t smell like lilac ( Cognac maybe ) and his hands might not be as steady, but what it lacks in quality it more than makes up for in bargain pricing.
It wounds us.
Me: “Well, thank you for calling than and you should receive your order in 2-3.”
C: “You sound so happy!”
….somehow, those words hurt more than anything any caller has ever said to be before.
Get Er' Dun
( Note: Company policy is 2 weeks to return or exchange. )
SC: “Ya, the girl said it’d be 6 weeks since I bout it so I can’t get no refund. Only store credit.”
Me: “Well-“
SC: “Well I got news fer ya! THAT AIN’T GONNA HAPPEN’. IMMA GIT MA MONEH BACK~!"
Whoa, easy there Cletus. I know that was probably a fair chuck of hooch coin you dropped on that cashmere scarf. Though, in all blunt honesty I have absolutely no idea why you of all people would order a cashmere scarf. I highly doubt it matches either a NASCAR hat or a wife beater.
I assume its the softest dish towel in the house at the moment.
Me: “The easiest way to reach customer service is actually to email them back directly.”
SC: “Yeah, but I dun’ lahk all this emailin’ when it takes language to speak!!”
….what? But….what…..what does that even mean? I assume you’re implying the actual process of reading and writing basic English is far too complicated for you and is putting undo stress on your tiny, gin soaked little mind? Well, for that I apologize. The world must be an overwhelming, scary place for you what with all these words and signs and things just everywhere. I mean you can’t turn anywhere without seeing some sort of letters. What the Hell, right? They should jus dun’ speak wif der mouths. Screw learnin’. Learnin’s fer commies.
See?
SC: “So let’s just do it than!”
Ummm…..how about no? As exciting and romantic as being proposition by random strangers is I’ll have to take a pass.
But see what I mean? You can get freebies. Even if you don’t want them.
THEY'RE ONTO US
They’ve found us.
Late this evening the pleading tone of Intercom rung at a rather strange hour. Odd, I thought. No one should be creeping about the building at this hour…..I checked the security camera and beheld a pair of expectant looking man-apes I did not recognize. Thus I hit the intercom button to inquire…..
Me: “Who is it?”
MA:“Hey, can you let us in?!”
Me: “Who are you?”
MA: “Wha? Let us in man!”
Me: “But who are you?”
MA: “We just wanna rent a room, man!”
Me: “……this isn’t a hotel.”
SC: “What?! Well ()@&*$ you than!”
Me: "Dumbass"
SC: "@*O&$@!"
They know where we are. It is no longer safe here! We must relocate, quickly. Our cover has been blown.
Seriously though, what part of this building looks even remotely like a hotel? There is no sign, no front desk and no individual windows along the front of the building that would indicate individual rooms. There isn’t even a valet or even a pot dealer or mistress of the night hanging around down front. Literally no trace amount of evidence that could possibly be mistaken for lodging and accommodations. Its quite clearly an office building.
I’m not sure where the wandered off too from here, but judging by the direction they headed they’re over banging on the door at Starbucks and complaining about the desk clerk being slow and leaving all the lights off.
Hot Tips
SC: “Yeah, did you know Prince Charles is the anti Christ? Cus his initials are PC which stands for protective custody an-“
Me: “Ok, you really need to get some new material. We’ve already heard all this.”
SC: “Y…uh….”
Seriously, dude. You’re just not entertaining anymore. It’s just the same ol’ same ol’ every week. What happened to you, man? Jesus use to talk to you all the time and you had all sorts of interesting pearls of wisdom from your supposedly divine visits. Now it’s just Prince Charles this and Prince Charles that. Sure, nobody likes Prince Charles but he’s not the anti-Christ either. I mean, the anti-Christ is suppose to be charismatic. Have you ever seen Prince Charles on television? He’s about as charismatic as the back end of a mule.
Which is convenient, since he married the front end.
Oh ho ho
Me: “Alright, are you still at <address>?”
SC: “Yes. Till I win the lottery anyway.”
I applaud your confidence, but caution you should brace yourself for stark disappointment. Because in all honesty I could bet you $100 right here that you won’t win. Because like you, I have 100% confidence in the outcome of your ticket purchase.
You may, however, win a lovely watch.
Fangirl: The Prelude
Me: “Good evening, <fairly vital emergency line>.”
FG: “MY NAME IS CATHY. I WANT TO TELL YOU ABOUT MY SISTER-“
Me: “T-“
FG: “SHE MARRIED AN AMERICAN AND MOVED THERE AND HAS TWO KIDS-“
Me: “Excuse m-“
FG: “THAN HE WENT BACK TO HONG KONG AND SHE-“
Me: “Excuse me-“
FG: “BUT SHE DIDN’T GO BACK HE-“
Me: “Excuse me”
FG: “THEY LIVE IN THERE AND-“
Me: “Ok, good bye.”
Right, two quick things: 1) I do not need your sister’s life story shouted at me for no apparent reason and 2) For the love of all that’s holy, BREATH. I didn’t hang up on you because you wouldn’t listen. I hung up on you because I was afraid for your life. If you had persisted at that rate and pitch you surely would have blacked out from lack of air. It was only through my quick thinking that your life was spared. You should be thankful that you can live to shriek incoherently for another day.
The Fangirl #2
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: “YES, MY SISTER IS MARRIED-“
Me: “Ok, this is our emergency li-“
FG: “-AND IMMIGRATION VISA-“
Me: “I can’t help you with immigration-“
FG: “BUT SHE NEEDS HELP WITH IMMIGRATION-“
Me: “-this is an emergency line for-”
FG: “RABBLE RABBLE RABBLE”
What the heck? Seriously, stop it. I can’t help you and you don’t appear to want help. You’re just raving at me incoherently about your sister’s marriage or something? I don’t even know and you won’t pause long enough to inhale and let me get a word in edgewise anyway. Not that we can assist you with your sister’s domestic dysfunction in any way.
If you really need assistance in such matters there are better avenues. Such as the Maury Povich Show.
The Fangirl #3 x 5
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “YES I WANT TELL YOU ABOUT MY SIS-“
Me: “Ok, this is our emergency line. Please stop tying it up.”
FG: “SHE’S LIV-oh, ok. I’ll call back later.”
You’d think this would be the end of it. However, I’ve now had this exact conversation with her 5 times straight in the last half hour. With no clear end in sight. I still have utterly no idea what it is she wants or why she’s calling. All I know is it’s about her sister or her marriage or something and someone is evil and she wants to sue them but they’re American in Hong Kong in Canada or I don’t know but they have children. Every word of this is shrieked at the top of her lungs and every call de-evolves into hyena like yelping.
The Fan Girl #4
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Yes, <emergency line>?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “<Screams at me in Mandarin for several sentences>”
Me: “…..!?”
FG: “<click>”
Unfortunately, my knowledge of Mandarin consists of only “Love you” and “Thank you”. Neither of which I detected anywhere in that diatribe. So I can only assume I am now a “doo doo head”.
The Fangirl #5: A Tragic Error
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Yes, <emergency line>?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “WHAT IS YOUR NAME!?”
Me: “My name is GK.”
FG: “WHAT?!”
Me: “GK.”
FG: “MY NAME IS CATHY. WHAT IS YOUR SURNAME?!”
Me: “I don’t disclose my surname.”
FG: “WHAT?!”
Me: “I don’t give out my surname.”
FG: “MY SURNAME IS <something with a K>”
Me: “Ok, but is there something I can help you with?”
FG: “OH NO. NO HELP. I DO NOT NEED HELP.
( I beg to differ. )
Me: “….alright, this is our emergency line so-“
FG: “NO. ITS NOT AN EMERGENCY. NO EMERGENCY. I DON’T NEED HELP.”
Me: “…….”
FG: “…….”
Me: “…….”
FG: “…….”
I give up. What the Hell is it you want than? Tell me! I can’t take much more of this raving lunacy. There must be some sort of purpose or objective behind all of this madness. Some driving force. I sincerely hope this is all stemming from some sort of tragic past event, emotional distress or substance abuse and not like, say, a talking inanimate object. If I’m going to be harassed all morning I’d hope there was some point to it beyond “The toaster told me too”.
The Fangirl #6
Me: “Good morning, <emergency line>”
FG: “HELLO GK?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “I JUST WANT LET YOU KNOW THAT MY PROPERTY IS A GIRL.”
Me: “…..what?”
FG: “MY PROPERTY IS A GIRL.”
…..what? What the fuck? Ok, I give up, what the hell is going on? I don’t understand! <sob>. Are you saying you have a personal slave girl ala Jabba the Hutt? Or are you affixing feminine characteristics to some piece of material property such as, say, the aforementioned toaster?
The Fangirl #7
Me: “Good morning, <emergency line>”
FG: “HELLO GK?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “I THREATEN NOW”
Me: “…what?”
FG: “I HAVE PREGNANT.”
Me: “…..”
FG: “I HAVE PREGNANT. IN MY STOMACH NOW. I HAVE BABY.”
Me: “…..ok?”
FG: “I JUST WANTED TELL YOU.”
Me: “…….”
FG: “<click>”
I'm not sure whats more terrifying. The fact you're breeding or the fact somewhere in this city is a man that willingly put something in your vagina aside from tile grout.
The Fangirl #8: ?!!?!
Me: “Good morning, <emergency line>”
FG: “HELLO GK?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “<Absolute top of the lungs screaming at me in Mandarin>”
Me “……!?”
FG: “<More screaming> NIGGER!! <screaming>”
Me: “Excuse m-?!”
FG: “<Additional screaming that persisted until I hung up.>”
……whoa, whoa, whoa. Did you seriously n-bomb me? Ok, deal’s off. That’s an end all tag word. I have utterly no idea what your problem is and no inclination to help you with it. Please go away. The fuck away.
PLEASE.
The Fangirl #9
Me: “Good morning, <emergency line>”
FG: “GK?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “<Insert Mandarin screaming again>”
Me: “I don’t understand, sorry.”
FG: “Wha?”
Me: “I don’t understand you, sorry.”
FG: “....you don’t speak Chinese?”
Me: “No I don’t, sorry.”
FG: “You don’t speak Chinese?!”
Me: “No.”
FG: “….do you want to learn Chinese from me?”
Me: “……”
FG: “I have this girlfriend named Cindy who learned Chinese from me. I really like her.”
…..there must be drugs involved. It’s the only possible explanation. Its either drugs or the lack of drugs.
The Fangirl #10
Me: “Good morning, <emergency line>”
FG: “HELLO GK?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “I HAVE TWO BROTHER AND TWO SISTER. ALL TOGETHER MY PARENTS HAVE 8 CHILDREN.”
Me: “…..”
FG: “THE SICK GIRL THERE. LET ME SEE. I HAVE 4 ELDER BROTHERS. 1 ELDER BROTHER. 3 YOUNGER SISTERS-”
Me: “This is our emergency line-“
FG: “THEY ALL LIVE IN AMERICA-“
HELP. ME.
The Fangirl #11: Intermission
Me: "Ugh...she's in queue again."
CW: "Oh oh! I want to talk to her!"
<Coworker snags the call out of queue and goes quiet for a minute or so.>
Me: "....dare I ask?"
CW: "Hahahah. Once she figured out I wasn't you she apologized for troubling me and hung up. Its just you man. She wants you."
Me: "Ugh!"
The Loach Reprised
I spotted the Loach again on the Skytrain tonight. Though not the same Loach. Another member of the species. At least I think. I didn’t tag the first one before releasing him back into the wild so there’s no way to be sure. This Loach stumbled on at Main street and declared “Where am I?!”. Now, the casual observer might think “Ha haz he’s so drunk he doesn’t even know where he is.”. But the casual observer does not know the loach very well. The casual observer would be in grave danger.
See, this was no drunken inquiry. This is actually a cunning ploy by the loach. By asking a seemingly innocuous question, he can lure potential prey. It’s a completely innocent inquiry and most people will at least give directions to someone that asks. Unaware of any danger. So sure enough, someone tells him he’s at Main street ( and points out the window directly at Main St ). The Loach affixes him with a gaze. Sensing prey. But the Loach can’t pounce too soon…...the doors are still open..….no, you don’t want to startle it in case it flees before the doors close.
Seeking to delay its prey, the loach asks a follow up……”Am I heading towards Kits?”.
Unaware of the trap closing in around him, the guy answers “yes, you’re heading downtown”. Delaying him just long enough for the Skytrain doors to close behind him. THE TRAP IS SPRUNG~.
“Hey, are you from Russia?!”
“……yes.”
“Haha, this guy’s from Russia. I know a lot of guy’s from Russia. Even got some friend’s from Russia.”
“……..”
“My girlfriend’s from Russia. Wanna see?”
“……<squirming uncomfortably>”
“Here, lemme show you.”
< At this point he roots through his pants and produces a tiny picture of an unnamed female who may or may not have used to have been named Dave. Forcing the poor guy to take it. >
“See?”
“Yeah…”
“She’s from Russia too.”
“<nods nervously.>”
< The Skytrain pulls up to Stadium and this guy bolts out the door like a startled deer. >
< The loach turns to the guy sitting across from him. >
“He was a nice guy.”
“…..yeah”
“He was from Russia ya know. My girlfriend’s from Russia. Wanna see?”
< Sensing danger, I flee the Skytrain at Granville. Along with almost everyone else on the car. I even saw one guy get off and get back on one car down. >
Beware the Loach. Beware!
I'm Serious.
Me: “Ok, your total comes to $179-“
SC: “Uh, but the catalog says $139”
Yes, but there’s a $40 COD shipping charge for living so far north the Russians have laid claim to the laundry mat. You may not realize this but Tokyo is probably closer to our warehouse than you are.
….ok, you know I was just joking but now that I check Google Maps, Toyko is closer to our warehouse than you are by about 40kms. Soo….yeah, that’ll be an extra $40 please.
Jesus Christ, how did you even get that far up there to begin with? Nevermind live long enough to build anything?
The Fangirl: Prelude To The Second Night
A little while after I got on shift this evening, <Coworker> turned to me and said “Some woman’s asking for you on <emergency line>”.
So it’s official. I have a stalker.
Wee.
The Fangirl #12
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Hi, GK?”
Me: “….can I help you?”
FG: “Oh, no. I just wanted to talk!”
Me: “Ok, look. This is an emergency line. I can’t have you tying up the line like this.”
FG: “Oh, sorry! I just wanted to talk. Sorry.”
I am never giving my name to a caller ever again. EVER. From now on my name is Eric on Weds, Sean on Thursday, Matt on Friday and Jose on Saturday. Got it? None of you know or have ever met a GK. There is no GK working here.
If she keeps calling tell her I'm dead and none of you want to talk about it. If she keeps asking, tell her it involved bears and a tragic decision to go with honey over BBQ sauce for my Chicken McNuggets.
The Interwebs Are Helpful
SC: “Are the ticket numbers random or in a row?”
Here we go again……random = good, sequential = bad. Once again, there is no statistical difference in odds for any individual ticket number. It does not matter if your ticket numbers are random or sequential. Each ticket still has an equal chance of being drawn. Having a “spread” does not increase your chances. There are only two feasible ways to increase your odds of winning:
A) Hiring an unnamed 3rd party to bump off, threaten to bump off, take hostage or threaten to take hostage and/or bump off a high ranking staff member of the lottery or one of their friends, lovers or member of their immediate family.
Or
B) Tracking down and making contact with a Leprechaun and convincing him to keep your tickets in his underwear for a fortnight. They may smell somewhat odd afterwards, but don’t worry. If it’s making your eyes water that’s just the good luck working.
If you like, either of this services can likely be obtained off of Craig’s List.
The Fangirl #13
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Hi, GK.”
Me: “………”
FG: “Its Cathy again. I just wanted to tell you I’m ok now.”
Me: “This is an emergency line. You can’t keep calling it like this.”
SC: “Oh, I’m sorry! I just wanted to tell you I’m ok. I went to sleep. So I’m ok now, I had a good sleep.”
I. DON’T. CARE. Leave me alone you desperate sociopath. <sob>. I am not your friend, pal, buddy or therapist and I do not want to be set up with your friend Cindy so I can learn Chinese nor can I help you sue the evil woman that your husband is married too in Hong Kong nor do I care that you’re pregnant or had a good nap or how many brothers and sisters you have or whatever the hell else is going through your diseased little mind. Please take your medication and go away. Preferably to some place that does not have telephone access but does provide padded rooms and full body restraints.
You do not require the assistance of <emergency line>. You require sedatives and a mouth guard.
The Backroom(tm)
SC: “I’m looking at an item on your website here but it doesn’t say it’s available in the colour I want. Do you have it in blue?”
Me: “Oh, alright. Unfortunately, the website lists exactly what colours we have. If it’s not listed there than we do not have it I’m afraid.”
SC: “You’re not going to check?!”
…check…what exactly? Check to make sure we don’t have an item we don’t have? This seems like a flawed endeavor on my part. I’m not sure what you’re banking on here. The probability that some sort of <product> fairy broke into the warehouse and left the item in question under our pillows is rather low. I assure you, I check under my pillow daily just to make sure no fairies broke into my house last night. So far my security system and perhaps the cat has deterred them.
You have to be careful you know. They’ll steal anything that’s not nailed down and only leave you like a buck for it. Even if they filched your dvd player or something.
Oh fark you.
( The ID number lets me get their name, address, phone number and email from the database, thus eliminating the majority of the call time... )
Me: “Ok, do you have a customer ID number?”
SC: “Oh, yes, but I’m not going to use it.”
Me: “….?”
SC: “It just feels luckier if I don’t”
…..well, that was the most overwhelming urge I’ve had to smuck someone upside the head all week. Thank you.
The Fangirl #14: The Cracks Begin To Appear
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Hello, GK!?”
Me: “There is no GK, there is only Zuul.”
FG: “Not GK?”
Me: “No.”
FG: “I WANT TO TELL YOU EVERYTHING~”
Well, it was worth a shot.
The Fangirl #15
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: “Are you GK?”
Me: “Are you the keymaster?"
FG: “No, I’m Cathy.”
Me: "Than we have nothing further to discuss."
BRING ME THE KEYMASTER.
The Fangirl #16
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Hi, I just wanted to tell you that I just cooked some d-“
Me: “Excuse me.”
FG: “and I had a nap-“
Me: “Excuse me.”
FG: “I cooked some-“
Me: “Excuse me.”
FG: “But than-“
Me: “Excuse me”
FG: “What?”
Me: “You are calling the emergency line for <organization and/or company> This is not a chat line.”
FG: “But I just want to tell you what I did today.”
Me: “We don’t care what you did today. This is our emergency line. Please stop calling.”
FG: “Ok, sorry.”
Now you’ve done it. You’ve made me use the “Bad dog!” voice.
The Fangirl #17
Me: “Good evening, <emergency>.”
FG: “Hi, I just put some water on to-“
Me: “Ok, this is an emergency line. Please stop calling it.”
FG: “But I just put some water on to cook-“
Me: “You life story is not an emergency.”
FG: “But-“
Me: “Goodbye”
Ok, I’ve gone through Denial, Weariness, Amusement, Disbelief and Anger. What stage of Customer Service Grief is next?
The Fangirl #18
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “I was just cleaning my hair-
Me: “I’ve already asked you to stop calling this line.”
FG: “and I found this thing-“
Me: “Goodbye.”
Apparently, it’s disgust.
The Fangirl #19
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Hello, this is Cathy, would you like to talk over the phone?”
Me: “No, this is an emergency line.”
FG: “But I want to talk to the <emergency line>.”
Me: “This is an emergency line. Unless it’s an emergency you should not be calling this line under any circumstances.”
FG: “What? This isn’t an emergency line….there’s no emergency”
I believe you’ll find that was my point, cunt trough.
The Fangirl #20: A Glimmer of Hope
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Hello, this is Cathy.”
Me: “As I’ve said, this is our emergency line. Please stop calling it.”
FG: “I want to tell you about my doctor-“
Me: “This is an emerg-“
FG: “and-
Me: “Ok, why don’t you go bother the <Belgian equivalent line> for a while?”
FG: “she’s an evil woman-“
Me: "I hear they have chocolate.”
FG: “....<click>”
….did….that work? Have I finally deflected her with the promise of chocolate? HALLEJUAH!~@ Oh bless you sweet heavens and the cocoa bean, I’m free! FREE!
......ok?
SC: “Hi, yeah, I’m calling to place an order.”
Me: “Ok, do you have a customer ID number?”
SC: “A what?!”
Me: “A customer ID number-“
SC: “What’s that?!”
Me: “If you ordered previously we send them-“
SC: “Oh yeah, I order tickets every year.”
Me: “Ok, did you receive a letter from us? It would have had the ID-“
SC: “Yeah I got a letter! Why are you asking all these questions?! Are you going to call the cops on me?!”
Me: “….no I-“
SC: “I mean God, I just wanted to order some tickets!!!!”
Me: “O-“
SC: “You know what, I’ll call back later. I don’t feel good talking to you!”
…..alrighty, I’m officially the only sane person awake in the entire city now.
......right
( 30 seconds later )
Me: “Good evening-”
SC: “Is this the same guy I just talked to?!”
Me: “Yes.”
SC: “Can’t I talk to anyone else?!”
Me: “I’m afraid I’m the only operator at this hour.”
SC: “You’re the only one?!”
Me: “Yes.”
SC: “I don’t understand why you’re asking me all these questions! I’ve got a credit card that’s good. I want to place an order! Now why do I have to answer questions?! Explain that to me!!!!!~”
Me: “I was only asking if you had a customer ID number-“
SC: “An id number?! I don’t need an ID number if I have a proper VISA do I?!”
Me: “No, it just lets us bring up your address if you ordered previously-“
SC: “Look it, look it! Don’t hassle me! I’m tired! I felt lucky till I talked to you for CHRIST SAKES! Lets get on with it. Now I have a question”
( Oh, so you get to ask them, but I can’t? )
Me: “Ok”
SC: “If I order 3 tickets. Are they drawn individually?”
Me: “Yes they are.”
SC: “They’re drawn individually? Ok, that’s go.”
Me: “Ok, could I have your first name, please?”
SC: “<HUGE DRAMATIC SIGH> Cocktaint McGoatFucker.”
Me: “O-“
SC: “You know what, I’m going to call back later when there are other operators! I don’t feel like talking to you!”
Me: “……”
Ok, back up a bit. I’m not clairvoyant nor telepathic despite some people’s belief to the contrary. I am going to have to ask you at least a few questions in order to place an order for you. I’m afraid that even if you make another attempt at this later you’ll find the operator asks you the exact same questions. So I highly recommend you roll up your sleeve, snap on a dish washing glove and dig deep to find whatever spiny crustacean and / or mammal has crawled up and is currently constructing a burrow in your backside. Please seize it, securely, and give it a good yank to see if you can free it. If its stubborn, try using Pam or canola oil.
I can practically guarantee that if you can manage to set the struggling beast free and back into the wild before you call back the next call will go much better.
The Fangirl #21
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: "Hi, FG?”
Me: “…..”
FG: “This is Dr Cathy.”
Right. I didn’t deflect her. I made her change careers. Chocolate turns you into a doctor. Duly noted.
The Fangirl #22
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: "Hi, FG?”
Me: “…..”
FG: “This woman is a-“
Me: “So chocolate didn’t work…”
FG: “and I want to tell you about my sister-”
Me: “Hey, if I feed you strawberry, will you turn into a bridge?”
FG: “married to-wha?”
That one is worth double plus nerd cred.
The Fangirl #23
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: “Hello, <emergency line>.”
Me: “……..”
( <sob> )
FG: “I just want to tell you that you can come over and have dinner at Cathy'splace any time you want, <emergency line>.”
Me: “….as I’ve told you multiple times tonight and the previous two nights. This is an emergency line. You cannot call this line like this. This is an emergency line only.”
FG: “Oh, ok. Sorry.”
SO LONELY.
Seriously though, this is the sort of thing that ends with me being tied to a bed with two broken knee caps at an undisclosed cabin location.
The Fangirl #24: The Descent
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: “HELLO <EMERGENCY LINE>
( Out of curiosity, I hit my Hold key (F1 in this case) to put her on hold for a few moments. Than took it off again about 20 seconds later... )
FG: “SHE’S A REAL-“
( and again… )
She’s now officially talking to our on hold music. Which means that my participation isn’t even required. Which, actually, is kind of a relief to be honest. So that’s at least some consolation.
The Fangirl #25
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: “HELLO <EMERGENCY LINE>
( F1 to the music, baby~ )
Approximate wait till she hung up: 25 seconds. I just may be on to something….
The Fangirl #26
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: “Hello, I want to tell you about-“
Me: “Talk to the hold.”
( F1 for victory. )
Approximate wait till she hung up: 2 seconds. Success! It was a long, bitter struggle. But finally, I have overcome this dark, insidious, extremely lonely foe. Though the losses we suffered were heavy, we have prevailed.
No matter how powerful her dark magiks, she cannot overcome our on hold music. For it is mellow, generic and could feasible loop until the end of time itself.
The Fangirl #27: <twitch>
Me: "Good evening, <emergency line>"
FG: "Hello, <emergency line>"
Me: “………”
FG: “Can I tell you about-“
Me: “ONE DOES NOT SIMPLY HOLD INTO MORDOR!"
( Hold key ftw~ )
I don’t think anyone can blame me for deriving some measure of enjoyment out of this at this point.
After this, the call frequency slowed down as no one cared to talk to her except the “We’ll be with you in a moment” guy. Though she’s still calling every once and a while. Just too far less success than before....
Thus ends my misery this week. As I left the office this morning she was still calling....<sigh>
God I hope she's gone by the time I go back. ><
You see, this week, I got a stalker.
Bargain Pricing
Me: “Alright, thank you for calling than-“
SC: “Last year I won a watch! It was a really nice one.”
Yay? I’m not really sure what you want me to say here. You go girl? Happy One Year Dinky Prize Anniversary? Congratulations, you won a watch over a year ago. I’m sure it’s a very lovely watch. I’m also sure it only cost 1/5th of what you spent on tickets to win it. So you’re not exactly breaking even here. So this year you’d best aim just a little bit higher.
Judging from the prize list you must at least win an ultimate spa gift certificate. ( Retail value: $500! ). That is the first prize on the list that would eclipse your initial investment. That’s right, $500 worth of oily complete strangers rubbing you vigorously in places normally covered by clothing in polite society. At the ultimate spa, $500 will buy you around 45 minutes worth of stranger molestation. On Granville at 4am, $500 would likely get you a week’s worth of 2 hour sessions with a few freebies thrown in here and there. Sure, he won’t smell like lilac ( Cognac maybe ) and his hands might not be as steady, but what it lacks in quality it more than makes up for in bargain pricing.
It wounds us.
Me: “Well, thank you for calling than and you should receive your order in 2-3.”
C: “You sound so happy!”
….somehow, those words hurt more than anything any caller has ever said to be before.
Get Er' Dun
( Note: Company policy is 2 weeks to return or exchange. )
SC: “Ya, the girl said it’d be 6 weeks since I bout it so I can’t get no refund. Only store credit.”
Me: “Well-“
SC: “Well I got news fer ya! THAT AIN’T GONNA HAPPEN’. IMMA GIT MA MONEH BACK~!"
Whoa, easy there Cletus. I know that was probably a fair chuck of hooch coin you dropped on that cashmere scarf. Though, in all blunt honesty I have absolutely no idea why you of all people would order a cashmere scarf. I highly doubt it matches either a NASCAR hat or a wife beater.
I assume its the softest dish towel in the house at the moment.
Me: “The easiest way to reach customer service is actually to email them back directly.”
SC: “Yeah, but I dun’ lahk all this emailin’ when it takes language to speak!!”
….what? But….what…..what does that even mean? I assume you’re implying the actual process of reading and writing basic English is far too complicated for you and is putting undo stress on your tiny, gin soaked little mind? Well, for that I apologize. The world must be an overwhelming, scary place for you what with all these words and signs and things just everywhere. I mean you can’t turn anywhere without seeing some sort of letters. What the Hell, right? They should jus dun’ speak wif der mouths. Screw learnin’. Learnin’s fer commies.
See?
SC: “So let’s just do it than!”
Ummm…..how about no? As exciting and romantic as being proposition by random strangers is I’ll have to take a pass.
But see what I mean? You can get freebies. Even if you don’t want them.
THEY'RE ONTO US
They’ve found us.
Late this evening the pleading tone of Intercom rung at a rather strange hour. Odd, I thought. No one should be creeping about the building at this hour…..I checked the security camera and beheld a pair of expectant looking man-apes I did not recognize. Thus I hit the intercom button to inquire…..
Me: “Who is it?”
MA:“Hey, can you let us in?!”
Me: “Who are you?”
MA: “Wha? Let us in man!”
Me: “But who are you?”
MA: “We just wanna rent a room, man!”
Me: “……this isn’t a hotel.”
SC: “What?! Well ()@&*$ you than!”
Me: "Dumbass"
SC: "@*O&$@!"
They know where we are. It is no longer safe here! We must relocate, quickly. Our cover has been blown.
Seriously though, what part of this building looks even remotely like a hotel? There is no sign, no front desk and no individual windows along the front of the building that would indicate individual rooms. There isn’t even a valet or even a pot dealer or mistress of the night hanging around down front. Literally no trace amount of evidence that could possibly be mistaken for lodging and accommodations. Its quite clearly an office building.
I’m not sure where the wandered off too from here, but judging by the direction they headed they’re over banging on the door at Starbucks and complaining about the desk clerk being slow and leaving all the lights off.
Hot Tips
SC: “Yeah, did you know Prince Charles is the anti Christ? Cus his initials are PC which stands for protective custody an-“
Me: “Ok, you really need to get some new material. We’ve already heard all this.”
SC: “Y…uh….”
Seriously, dude. You’re just not entertaining anymore. It’s just the same ol’ same ol’ every week. What happened to you, man? Jesus use to talk to you all the time and you had all sorts of interesting pearls of wisdom from your supposedly divine visits. Now it’s just Prince Charles this and Prince Charles that. Sure, nobody likes Prince Charles but he’s not the anti-Christ either. I mean, the anti-Christ is suppose to be charismatic. Have you ever seen Prince Charles on television? He’s about as charismatic as the back end of a mule.
Which is convenient, since he married the front end.
Oh ho ho
Me: “Alright, are you still at <address>?”
SC: “Yes. Till I win the lottery anyway.”
I applaud your confidence, but caution you should brace yourself for stark disappointment. Because in all honesty I could bet you $100 right here that you won’t win. Because like you, I have 100% confidence in the outcome of your ticket purchase.
You may, however, win a lovely watch.
Fangirl: The Prelude
Me: “Good evening, <fairly vital emergency line>.”
FG: “MY NAME IS CATHY. I WANT TO TELL YOU ABOUT MY SISTER-“
Me: “T-“
FG: “SHE MARRIED AN AMERICAN AND MOVED THERE AND HAS TWO KIDS-“
Me: “Excuse m-“
FG: “THAN HE WENT BACK TO HONG KONG AND SHE-“
Me: “Excuse me-“
FG: “BUT SHE DIDN’T GO BACK HE-“
Me: “Excuse me”
FG: “THEY LIVE IN THERE AND-“
Me: “Ok, good bye.”
Right, two quick things: 1) I do not need your sister’s life story shouted at me for no apparent reason and 2) For the love of all that’s holy, BREATH. I didn’t hang up on you because you wouldn’t listen. I hung up on you because I was afraid for your life. If you had persisted at that rate and pitch you surely would have blacked out from lack of air. It was only through my quick thinking that your life was spared. You should be thankful that you can live to shriek incoherently for another day.
The Fangirl #2
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: “YES, MY SISTER IS MARRIED-“
Me: “Ok, this is our emergency li-“
FG: “-AND IMMIGRATION VISA-“
Me: “I can’t help you with immigration-“
FG: “BUT SHE NEEDS HELP WITH IMMIGRATION-“
Me: “-this is an emergency line for-”
FG: “RABBLE RABBLE RABBLE”
What the heck? Seriously, stop it. I can’t help you and you don’t appear to want help. You’re just raving at me incoherently about your sister’s marriage or something? I don’t even know and you won’t pause long enough to inhale and let me get a word in edgewise anyway. Not that we can assist you with your sister’s domestic dysfunction in any way.
If you really need assistance in such matters there are better avenues. Such as the Maury Povich Show.
The Fangirl #3 x 5
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “YES I WANT TELL YOU ABOUT MY SIS-“
Me: “Ok, this is our emergency line. Please stop tying it up.”
FG: “SHE’S LIV-oh, ok. I’ll call back later.”
You’d think this would be the end of it. However, I’ve now had this exact conversation with her 5 times straight in the last half hour. With no clear end in sight. I still have utterly no idea what it is she wants or why she’s calling. All I know is it’s about her sister or her marriage or something and someone is evil and she wants to sue them but they’re American in Hong Kong in Canada or I don’t know but they have children. Every word of this is shrieked at the top of her lungs and every call de-evolves into hyena like yelping.
The Fan Girl #4
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Yes, <emergency line>?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “<Screams at me in Mandarin for several sentences>”
Me: “…..!?”
FG: “<click>”
Unfortunately, my knowledge of Mandarin consists of only “Love you” and “Thank you”. Neither of which I detected anywhere in that diatribe. So I can only assume I am now a “doo doo head”.
The Fangirl #5: A Tragic Error
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Yes, <emergency line>?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “WHAT IS YOUR NAME!?”
Me: “My name is GK.”
FG: “WHAT?!”
Me: “GK.”
FG: “MY NAME IS CATHY. WHAT IS YOUR SURNAME?!”
Me: “I don’t disclose my surname.”
FG: “WHAT?!”
Me: “I don’t give out my surname.”
FG: “MY SURNAME IS <something with a K>”
Me: “Ok, but is there something I can help you with?”
FG: “OH NO. NO HELP. I DO NOT NEED HELP.
( I beg to differ. )
Me: “….alright, this is our emergency line so-“
FG: “NO. ITS NOT AN EMERGENCY. NO EMERGENCY. I DON’T NEED HELP.”
Me: “…….”
FG: “…….”
Me: “…….”
FG: “…….”
I give up. What the Hell is it you want than? Tell me! I can’t take much more of this raving lunacy. There must be some sort of purpose or objective behind all of this madness. Some driving force. I sincerely hope this is all stemming from some sort of tragic past event, emotional distress or substance abuse and not like, say, a talking inanimate object. If I’m going to be harassed all morning I’d hope there was some point to it beyond “The toaster told me too”.
The Fangirl #6
Me: “Good morning, <emergency line>”
FG: “HELLO GK?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “I JUST WANT LET YOU KNOW THAT MY PROPERTY IS A GIRL.”
Me: “…..what?”
FG: “MY PROPERTY IS A GIRL.”
…..what? What the fuck? Ok, I give up, what the hell is going on? I don’t understand! <sob>. Are you saying you have a personal slave girl ala Jabba the Hutt? Or are you affixing feminine characteristics to some piece of material property such as, say, the aforementioned toaster?
The Fangirl #7
Me: “Good morning, <emergency line>”
FG: “HELLO GK?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “I THREATEN NOW”
Me: “…what?”
FG: “I HAVE PREGNANT.”
Me: “…..”
FG: “I HAVE PREGNANT. IN MY STOMACH NOW. I HAVE BABY.”
Me: “…..ok?”
FG: “I JUST WANTED TELL YOU.”
Me: “…….”
FG: “<click>”
I'm not sure whats more terrifying. The fact you're breeding or the fact somewhere in this city is a man that willingly put something in your vagina aside from tile grout.
The Fangirl #8: ?!!?!
Me: “Good morning, <emergency line>”
FG: “HELLO GK?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “<Absolute top of the lungs screaming at me in Mandarin>”
Me “……!?”
FG: “<More screaming> NIGGER!! <screaming>”
Me: “Excuse m-?!”
FG: “<Additional screaming that persisted until I hung up.>”
……whoa, whoa, whoa. Did you seriously n-bomb me? Ok, deal’s off. That’s an end all tag word. I have utterly no idea what your problem is and no inclination to help you with it. Please go away. The fuck away.
PLEASE.
The Fangirl #9
Me: “Good morning, <emergency line>”
FG: “GK?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “<Insert Mandarin screaming again>”
Me: “I don’t understand, sorry.”
FG: “Wha?”
Me: “I don’t understand you, sorry.”
FG: “....you don’t speak Chinese?”
Me: “No I don’t, sorry.”
FG: “You don’t speak Chinese?!”
Me: “No.”
FG: “….do you want to learn Chinese from me?”
Me: “……”
FG: “I have this girlfriend named Cindy who learned Chinese from me. I really like her.”
…..there must be drugs involved. It’s the only possible explanation. Its either drugs or the lack of drugs.
The Fangirl #10
Me: “Good morning, <emergency line>”
FG: “HELLO GK?!”
Me: “Yes.”
FG: “I HAVE TWO BROTHER AND TWO SISTER. ALL TOGETHER MY PARENTS HAVE 8 CHILDREN.”
Me: “…..”
FG: “THE SICK GIRL THERE. LET ME SEE. I HAVE 4 ELDER BROTHERS. 1 ELDER BROTHER. 3 YOUNGER SISTERS-”
Me: “This is our emergency line-“
FG: “THEY ALL LIVE IN AMERICA-“
HELP. ME.
The Fangirl #11: Intermission
Me: "Ugh...she's in queue again."
CW: "Oh oh! I want to talk to her!"
<Coworker snags the call out of queue and goes quiet for a minute or so.>
Me: "....dare I ask?"
CW: "Hahahah. Once she figured out I wasn't you she apologized for troubling me and hung up. Its just you man. She wants you."
Me: "Ugh!"
The Loach Reprised
I spotted the Loach again on the Skytrain tonight. Though not the same Loach. Another member of the species. At least I think. I didn’t tag the first one before releasing him back into the wild so there’s no way to be sure. This Loach stumbled on at Main street and declared “Where am I?!”. Now, the casual observer might think “Ha haz he’s so drunk he doesn’t even know where he is.”. But the casual observer does not know the loach very well. The casual observer would be in grave danger.
See, this was no drunken inquiry. This is actually a cunning ploy by the loach. By asking a seemingly innocuous question, he can lure potential prey. It’s a completely innocent inquiry and most people will at least give directions to someone that asks. Unaware of any danger. So sure enough, someone tells him he’s at Main street ( and points out the window directly at Main St ). The Loach affixes him with a gaze. Sensing prey. But the Loach can’t pounce too soon…...the doors are still open..….no, you don’t want to startle it in case it flees before the doors close.
Seeking to delay its prey, the loach asks a follow up……”Am I heading towards Kits?”.
Unaware of the trap closing in around him, the guy answers “yes, you’re heading downtown”. Delaying him just long enough for the Skytrain doors to close behind him. THE TRAP IS SPRUNG~.
“Hey, are you from Russia?!”
“……yes.”
“Haha, this guy’s from Russia. I know a lot of guy’s from Russia. Even got some friend’s from Russia.”
“……..”
“My girlfriend’s from Russia. Wanna see?”
“……<squirming uncomfortably>”
“Here, lemme show you.”
< At this point he roots through his pants and produces a tiny picture of an unnamed female who may or may not have used to have been named Dave. Forcing the poor guy to take it. >
“See?”
“Yeah…”
“She’s from Russia too.”
“<nods nervously.>”
< The Skytrain pulls up to Stadium and this guy bolts out the door like a startled deer. >
< The loach turns to the guy sitting across from him. >
“He was a nice guy.”
“…..yeah”
“He was from Russia ya know. My girlfriend’s from Russia. Wanna see?”
< Sensing danger, I flee the Skytrain at Granville. Along with almost everyone else on the car. I even saw one guy get off and get back on one car down. >
Beware the Loach. Beware!
I'm Serious.
Me: “Ok, your total comes to $179-“
SC: “Uh, but the catalog says $139”
Yes, but there’s a $40 COD shipping charge for living so far north the Russians have laid claim to the laundry mat. You may not realize this but Tokyo is probably closer to our warehouse than you are.
….ok, you know I was just joking but now that I check Google Maps, Toyko is closer to our warehouse than you are by about 40kms. Soo….yeah, that’ll be an extra $40 please.
Jesus Christ, how did you even get that far up there to begin with? Nevermind live long enough to build anything?
The Fangirl: Prelude To The Second Night
A little while after I got on shift this evening, <Coworker> turned to me and said “Some woman’s asking for you on <emergency line>”.
So it’s official. I have a stalker.
Wee.
The Fangirl #12
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Hi, GK?”
Me: “….can I help you?”
FG: “Oh, no. I just wanted to talk!”
Me: “Ok, look. This is an emergency line. I can’t have you tying up the line like this.”
FG: “Oh, sorry! I just wanted to talk. Sorry.”
I am never giving my name to a caller ever again. EVER. From now on my name is Eric on Weds, Sean on Thursday, Matt on Friday and Jose on Saturday. Got it? None of you know or have ever met a GK. There is no GK working here.
If she keeps calling tell her I'm dead and none of you want to talk about it. If she keeps asking, tell her it involved bears and a tragic decision to go with honey over BBQ sauce for my Chicken McNuggets.
The Interwebs Are Helpful
SC: “Are the ticket numbers random or in a row?”
Here we go again……random = good, sequential = bad. Once again, there is no statistical difference in odds for any individual ticket number. It does not matter if your ticket numbers are random or sequential. Each ticket still has an equal chance of being drawn. Having a “spread” does not increase your chances. There are only two feasible ways to increase your odds of winning:
A) Hiring an unnamed 3rd party to bump off, threaten to bump off, take hostage or threaten to take hostage and/or bump off a high ranking staff member of the lottery or one of their friends, lovers or member of their immediate family.
Or
B) Tracking down and making contact with a Leprechaun and convincing him to keep your tickets in his underwear for a fortnight. They may smell somewhat odd afterwards, but don’t worry. If it’s making your eyes water that’s just the good luck working.
If you like, either of this services can likely be obtained off of Craig’s List.
The Fangirl #13
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Hi, GK.”
Me: “………”
FG: “Its Cathy again. I just wanted to tell you I’m ok now.”
Me: “This is an emergency line. You can’t keep calling it like this.”
SC: “Oh, I’m sorry! I just wanted to tell you I’m ok. I went to sleep. So I’m ok now, I had a good sleep.”
I. DON’T. CARE. Leave me alone you desperate sociopath. <sob>. I am not your friend, pal, buddy or therapist and I do not want to be set up with your friend Cindy so I can learn Chinese nor can I help you sue the evil woman that your husband is married too in Hong Kong nor do I care that you’re pregnant or had a good nap or how many brothers and sisters you have or whatever the hell else is going through your diseased little mind. Please take your medication and go away. Preferably to some place that does not have telephone access but does provide padded rooms and full body restraints.
You do not require the assistance of <emergency line>. You require sedatives and a mouth guard.
The Backroom(tm)
SC: “I’m looking at an item on your website here but it doesn’t say it’s available in the colour I want. Do you have it in blue?”
Me: “Oh, alright. Unfortunately, the website lists exactly what colours we have. If it’s not listed there than we do not have it I’m afraid.”
SC: “You’re not going to check?!”
…check…what exactly? Check to make sure we don’t have an item we don’t have? This seems like a flawed endeavor on my part. I’m not sure what you’re banking on here. The probability that some sort of <product> fairy broke into the warehouse and left the item in question under our pillows is rather low. I assure you, I check under my pillow daily just to make sure no fairies broke into my house last night. So far my security system and perhaps the cat has deterred them.
You have to be careful you know. They’ll steal anything that’s not nailed down and only leave you like a buck for it. Even if they filched your dvd player or something.
Oh fark you.
( The ID number lets me get their name, address, phone number and email from the database, thus eliminating the majority of the call time... )
Me: “Ok, do you have a customer ID number?”
SC: “Oh, yes, but I’m not going to use it.”
Me: “….?”
SC: “It just feels luckier if I don’t”
…..well, that was the most overwhelming urge I’ve had to smuck someone upside the head all week. Thank you.
The Fangirl #14: The Cracks Begin To Appear
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Hello, GK!?”
Me: “There is no GK, there is only Zuul.”
FG: “Not GK?”
Me: “No.”
FG: “I WANT TO TELL YOU EVERYTHING~”
Well, it was worth a shot.
The Fangirl #15
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: “Are you GK?”
Me: “Are you the keymaster?"
FG: “No, I’m Cathy.”
Me: "Than we have nothing further to discuss."
BRING ME THE KEYMASTER.
The Fangirl #16
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Hi, I just wanted to tell you that I just cooked some d-“
Me: “Excuse me.”
FG: “and I had a nap-“
Me: “Excuse me.”
FG: “I cooked some-“
Me: “Excuse me.”
FG: “But than-“
Me: “Excuse me”
FG: “What?”
Me: “You are calling the emergency line for <organization and/or company> This is not a chat line.”
FG: “But I just want to tell you what I did today.”
Me: “We don’t care what you did today. This is our emergency line. Please stop calling.”
FG: “Ok, sorry.”
Now you’ve done it. You’ve made me use the “Bad dog!” voice.
The Fangirl #17
Me: “Good evening, <emergency>.”
FG: “Hi, I just put some water on to-“
Me: “Ok, this is an emergency line. Please stop calling it.”
FG: “But I just put some water on to cook-“
Me: “You life story is not an emergency.”
FG: “But-“
Me: “Goodbye”
Ok, I’ve gone through Denial, Weariness, Amusement, Disbelief and Anger. What stage of Customer Service Grief is next?
The Fangirl #18
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “I was just cleaning my hair-
Me: “I’ve already asked you to stop calling this line.”
FG: “and I found this thing-“
Me: “Goodbye.”
Apparently, it’s disgust.
The Fangirl #19
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Hello, this is Cathy, would you like to talk over the phone?”
Me: “No, this is an emergency line.”
FG: “But I want to talk to the <emergency line>.”
Me: “This is an emergency line. Unless it’s an emergency you should not be calling this line under any circumstances.”
FG: “What? This isn’t an emergency line….there’s no emergency”
I believe you’ll find that was my point, cunt trough.
The Fangirl #20: A Glimmer of Hope
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>.”
FG: “Hello, this is Cathy.”
Me: “As I’ve said, this is our emergency line. Please stop calling it.”
FG: “I want to tell you about my doctor-“
Me: “This is an emerg-“
FG: “and-
Me: “Ok, why don’t you go bother the <Belgian equivalent line> for a while?”
FG: “she’s an evil woman-“
Me: "I hear they have chocolate.”
FG: “....<click>”
….did….that work? Have I finally deflected her with the promise of chocolate? HALLEJUAH!~@ Oh bless you sweet heavens and the cocoa bean, I’m free! FREE!
......ok?
SC: “Hi, yeah, I’m calling to place an order.”
Me: “Ok, do you have a customer ID number?”
SC: “A what?!”
Me: “A customer ID number-“
SC: “What’s that?!”
Me: “If you ordered previously we send them-“
SC: “Oh yeah, I order tickets every year.”
Me: “Ok, did you receive a letter from us? It would have had the ID-“
SC: “Yeah I got a letter! Why are you asking all these questions?! Are you going to call the cops on me?!”
Me: “….no I-“
SC: “I mean God, I just wanted to order some tickets!!!!”
Me: “O-“
SC: “You know what, I’ll call back later. I don’t feel good talking to you!”
…..alrighty, I’m officially the only sane person awake in the entire city now.
......right
( 30 seconds later )
Me: “Good evening-”
SC: “Is this the same guy I just talked to?!”
Me: “Yes.”
SC: “Can’t I talk to anyone else?!”
Me: “I’m afraid I’m the only operator at this hour.”
SC: “You’re the only one?!”
Me: “Yes.”
SC: “I don’t understand why you’re asking me all these questions! I’ve got a credit card that’s good. I want to place an order! Now why do I have to answer questions?! Explain that to me!!!!!~”
Me: “I was only asking if you had a customer ID number-“
SC: “An id number?! I don’t need an ID number if I have a proper VISA do I?!”
Me: “No, it just lets us bring up your address if you ordered previously-“
SC: “Look it, look it! Don’t hassle me! I’m tired! I felt lucky till I talked to you for CHRIST SAKES! Lets get on with it. Now I have a question”
( Oh, so you get to ask them, but I can’t? )
Me: “Ok”
SC: “If I order 3 tickets. Are they drawn individually?”
Me: “Yes they are.”
SC: “They’re drawn individually? Ok, that’s go.”
Me: “Ok, could I have your first name, please?”
SC: “<HUGE DRAMATIC SIGH> Cocktaint McGoatFucker.”
Me: “O-“
SC: “You know what, I’m going to call back later when there are other operators! I don’t feel like talking to you!”
Me: “……”
Ok, back up a bit. I’m not clairvoyant nor telepathic despite some people’s belief to the contrary. I am going to have to ask you at least a few questions in order to place an order for you. I’m afraid that even if you make another attempt at this later you’ll find the operator asks you the exact same questions. So I highly recommend you roll up your sleeve, snap on a dish washing glove and dig deep to find whatever spiny crustacean and / or mammal has crawled up and is currently constructing a burrow in your backside. Please seize it, securely, and give it a good yank to see if you can free it. If its stubborn, try using Pam or canola oil.
I can practically guarantee that if you can manage to set the struggling beast free and back into the wild before you call back the next call will go much better.
The Fangirl #21
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: "Hi, FG?”
Me: “…..”
FG: “This is Dr Cathy.”
Right. I didn’t deflect her. I made her change careers. Chocolate turns you into a doctor. Duly noted.
The Fangirl #22
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: "Hi, FG?”
Me: “…..”
FG: “This woman is a-“
Me: “So chocolate didn’t work…”
FG: “and I want to tell you about my sister-”
Me: “Hey, if I feed you strawberry, will you turn into a bridge?”
FG: “married to-wha?”
That one is worth double plus nerd cred.
The Fangirl #23
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: “Hello, <emergency line>.”
Me: “……..”
( <sob> )
FG: “I just want to tell you that you can come over and have dinner at Cathy'splace any time you want, <emergency line>.”
Me: “….as I’ve told you multiple times tonight and the previous two nights. This is an emergency line. You cannot call this line like this. This is an emergency line only.”
FG: “Oh, ok. Sorry.”
SO LONELY.
Seriously though, this is the sort of thing that ends with me being tied to a bed with two broken knee caps at an undisclosed cabin location.
The Fangirl #24: The Descent
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: “HELLO <EMERGENCY LINE>
( Out of curiosity, I hit my Hold key (F1 in this case) to put her on hold for a few moments. Than took it off again about 20 seconds later... )
FG: “SHE’S A REAL-“
( and again… )
She’s now officially talking to our on hold music. Which means that my participation isn’t even required. Which, actually, is kind of a relief to be honest. So that’s at least some consolation.
The Fangirl #25
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: “HELLO <EMERGENCY LINE>
( F1 to the music, baby~ )
Approximate wait till she hung up: 25 seconds. I just may be on to something….
The Fangirl #26
Me: “Good evening, <emergency line>”
FG: “Hello, I want to tell you about-“
Me: “Talk to the hold.”
( F1 for victory. )
Approximate wait till she hung up: 2 seconds. Success! It was a long, bitter struggle. But finally, I have overcome this dark, insidious, extremely lonely foe. Though the losses we suffered were heavy, we have prevailed.
No matter how powerful her dark magiks, she cannot overcome our on hold music. For it is mellow, generic and could feasible loop until the end of time itself.
The Fangirl #27: <twitch>
Me: "Good evening, <emergency line>"
FG: "Hello, <emergency line>"
Me: “………”
FG: “Can I tell you about-“
Me: “ONE DOES NOT SIMPLY HOLD INTO MORDOR!"
( Hold key ftw~ )
I don’t think anyone can blame me for deriving some measure of enjoyment out of this at this point.
After this, the call frequency slowed down as no one cared to talk to her except the “We’ll be with you in a moment” guy. Though she’s still calling every once and a while. Just too far less success than before....
Thus ends my misery this week. As I left the office this morning she was still calling....<sigh>
God I hope she's gone by the time I go back. ><
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