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ESCAPE PANTS
Kind of a slow week....which is actually kind of good because its been a hellish week in other areas. -.-
Hot Tips
Alrighty……let’s see if I can unravel this one. You know, they always seem lucid at first. It’s not until they start to explain why they’re calling that things start getting…..odd.
See, her papers were stolen. I do not know what these papers are, exactly. Just that there were papers, and they were stolen. All of them. They stole her papers ( Her Canadian papers and her American papers ) and the US Government stole her inheritance. The inheritance which she received after her Uncle Murray, who lives in Canada, was kidnapped and murdered by….er…”Them”. I do not know who “Them” is, but “They” slew her uncle. Than took all his stuff and sold it. Than took all his property and sold it. Poor Uncle Murray. He was liquidated by the nefarious Them.
Them than went on to slay her grandmother. But Them got her in the States. But no one in the States knows about. It’s a secret. Only Canada knows about this dark deed. Not anyone specific in Canada. But rather, all of us. Like all of Canada watched her grandmother’s demise one evening after it was inadvertently broadcast live half way through Hockey Night in Canada. I assume the lot of us dismissed it as a Subway commercial and continued watching the game.
Halfway through this conversation the United States of America became the United Kingdom. Which she was than under the impression was south of Canada. Than British Columbia became the United Kingdom all of a sudden and she was under the impression United Kingdom was north of the US. At which point I tried to inform her that the United Kingdom was in Europe. To which she responded “Yeah” like I was a raging tardstick. So she indeed appears to believe that Europe is part of or somehow encompasses North America.
Also, the government is stealing all her stuff and kidnapping her relatives and murdering them and stealing their stuff but only Canada knows.
Got it?
I guess?
SC: “Do stretchy pants shrink when you wash them?”
A better question would be: Does it really matter?
ESCAPE~
Me: "Ok, and what would like to order?"
SC: "uhh....item numbar xxxx"
......the “Liquid Escape Pants”? Liquid. Escape. Pants. Isn’t there someone, somewhere at that company that has to approve product names? Because I can’t see how that one could have possibly flown under the radar. Liquid Escape Pants. That does not sound “hip” ( per the product description ) in any way shape or form. It sounds like you have severe bladder problems and need a customized drainage system to go about your daily life.
The description also indicates it has “Inner thigh venting”. Which….doesn’t really sound positive to be honest. These appear to be ski pants. Which indicates a fairly cold climate in which you will hurdled through at high speed. So these pants are specifically designed to vent all incoming cold air directly into the areas where you are most vulnerable.
A Questionable Inquiry
Apparent, my nubile girlish figure retains its potency. Whilst walking to the bus stop this evening, on a road completely by myself and with my hood up so one could not see my hair, or lack thereof. A vehicle came around the corner and as it drove past me, someone leaned out the back seat window and yelled at me. In all seriousness. And I quote:
“SHOW US YOUR TITS!”
An intriguing request to squawk at me from a passing vehicle and really quite the last thing I expected to be asked. But even if I were to comply with it I can guarantee you’ll be deeply disappointed.
What? ...no
Me: “Ok, anything else?”
SC: “No, that’s everything.”
Me: “Alright-“
SC: “Do you need my social insurance card?”
Me: “…..no.”
SC: “I have a social insurance card.”
Good for you…..but I don’t need that information. In fact, very few interactions in your daily life are going to require that information. I’m assuming that you recently obtained either a Visa or Mastercard through some dubious means and have recently witnessed the seemingly magical powers it possesses to summon pants, hats and pizza. However, just because it has such abilities doesn’t mean that every card in your wallet has a similar magical properties. You cannot obtain pants with your Social Insurance Card, Carecard, Driver’s License or Female Body Inspector card.
Oh?
Me: "Good evening, <company> are you calling to place an order?"
SC: “What an awful time of night be spending money.”
Not awful enough to stop you though, eh? If you’re going to make a random, irrational statement in response to my questions at least show some conviction and back it up with action. Come on, grow a back bone! Show some confidence! Stand up for your beliefs! Hang that phone up right this minute and don’t call back until daylight breaks. Say around, oh…I don’t know, 7:01am?
( Note: I get off at 7 =p )
SO. MANY. WORDS.
Me: “Ok, and your postal code?”
SC: “Oh…..ummm……”
Me: “…….?”
SC: “Sorry, I was just reading the paper so now my head is all full of facts and things.”
Indeed. Not a lot of drive space in your brain box is there? Maybe you should just stop reading altogether. It may be safer that way. There’s no telling what sort of damage you’ll inflict on yourself if you persist. Basic literacy is simply too dangerous to risk. In fact, for your own safety maybe we should just skip the phone number and email address questions altogether. I’d hate to inadvertently wipe half your childhood.
Lost In Translation
I do not speak German. I appreciate that you have learned enough English to ask “Do you speak German?”. However, it seems you have not learned enough English to realize that “No” in English does not mean “Why yes, I speak perfect German. I’m just pretending not to in order to frustrate and enrage you because I am jerk and think yours is a country of suspenders and hairy women. Now why don’t you run along and shave your wife's back or whatever it is you do over there.” in German.
The Fangirl
I think….I inadvertently made the lunatic cry this evening. I’m not sure if I should feel a little bad about it or somewhat proud of myself. I began putting her on hold again so she could have a wonderful, lurid conversation with our on hold music. She did not like this. Eventually she called back in a tears, and I put her on hold again……and she hasn’t called since. I’m not sure what that says about our on hold music but there you go.
But I’m all for anything that can derail the crazy train at this point.
MY EYES
Me: “Ok, and what would you like to order?”
SC: “These BABE PHA TA CAT LO”
That would be “Baby Fat Tag Cat Low”. Which, on the surface, appears to be some sort of alien code. But on closer examination is actually this monstrosity:
It comes in White / Fuchsia for a “girly feel”. Also, if you stare at it for 30 seconds than look at a white wall you can see the outline.
Me: “Ok, anything else?”
SC: “and uh…..this camo sweater. Pink camo.”
Oh no. No no no. TURN BACK WHILE YOU STILL CAN.
Me: “What’s the item number?”
SC: “xxxx”
Oh yes. Drink it in.
SC: “This is fer my girlfriend”
I’m amused you felt the need to clarify that to protect your fragile masculinity. That aside, there are only a limited number of reasons why you would possibly think this is a good idea:
A) She’s colour blind.
B) You want her to break up with you.
C) She’s a crossing guard.
D) You keep her in the basement where the light of day does not touch her.
E) She's 6.
I can’t conceive of any other reasons a human being with functioning eyeballs would combine these articles of clothing.
Facade
Do you desperately want to sound important? Do you want to puff yourself up in every ridiculously imaginative way possible? Than follow these easy steps:
1) Refer to yourself as “Mr Caesar Vincent Jr the 3rd”. Be sure to specify that the 3 is a roman numeral.
2) Explain that you may not answer your cell phone because, you are, and I quote “on the constantly move, because I’m a bizzzzzzness man, yo”
3) Kindly inform me, the peon, that I can speak with your secretary regarding it. It being your missing free magazine offer.
4) Insert side comment about owning stocks in Wall Street. Not at any specific company. Just in the street itself.
5) Insert clever anecdote about how you have two other employees that can assist me as well if need be.
6) Explain that you don’t have the number to either employee, but I can reach either if I call the MGM Grand in Las Vegas and ask for the penthouse.
7) Do all of this in a tone of voice and using the vocabulary of a man whose educational level does not exceed the 4th grade all the while speaking in "gangsta".
Congratulations, now you too are an couch chewing monkey child attempting to pass yourself off as a Fortune 500 CEO.
.....
SC: “One of the girls accidentally shut down our computer earlier.”
Me: “Ok”
SC: “But I don’t know where the power switch is to turn it back on!”
Alrighty.....well, I can help you, but before I do, you might want to take your coffee mug out of the “cup holder”.
The Parkade
Ahhh..the parkade. That dark, insidious dungeon from which no car ever seems to escape. Typically, because their owners cannot read, grasp or comprehend giant, clearly visible signs that state when the parkade closes. That said, if you do find your mighty steel chariot trapped in one of these dark recesses and need to call someone to free it, there’s a few things you probably should avoid:
1) Starting every sentence with “Dude!”
While you may be under some sort of odd impression that this is somehow “cool” I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Beginning a sentence with “dude” has not born any inherent cool factor since the late 80’s, early 90’s and was largely confined to surfers and children with a near cult like adoration for Michelangelo from the Ninja Turtles.
Even if you did fall into either of these categories at some point, just let it go. Dude, those days are past.
2) Swearing by the second call.
Just because you have not gotten your way in under 5 minutes does not mean you need to trot out the F-Bomb. The F-Bomb is an unwieldy weapon of mass destruction in the customer service industry. When hurled at an unsuspecting foe it deals at least 6D6 damage to any given CSR’s Sympathy and an additional 4D6 to any other coworkers within 15 feet.
The whole point of this is to try and increase the target’s Sympathy.
3) Swearing by the 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th calls.
What did I just tell you? You’re not going to achieve victory here by trying to link some sort of multi-hit fail combo.
4) Whining like a 4 year old about how no one told you the parkade closes at 1am.
No one is required to tell you. That’s why there’s signs. It’s generally expected that the average car owner is literate and has at least enough vision to avoid barreling through crosswalks at high speeds. I know the latter is kind of iffy in Vancouver, but you must have at least needed to fill something out before you were given a driver’s license.
…..you do have a driver’s license, don’t you?
5) Threatening to “sue your ass!” because no one told you the parkade closes at 1am.
Ah....the lawsuit threat. You know, 99.4% of the time the one deploying the lawsuit threat has utterly no legal basis to actually launch a lawsuit, right? Guess which category you fall into? Unfortunately, “I’m stupid, give me money” doesn't hold up too well in court unless, on the off chance, hot coffee and your testicles are involved.
6) You have a $12,000 trip to go on tomorrow and you need your car because all your luggage is in it.
Ok, little hint: It’s a tad late to be playing the Sympathy Card. You’re suppose to try it before launching the Lawsuit Card or throwing the F-Bomb. Generally, you get better results that way. You’re doing this all backwards, you know.
In the future, you should try to avoid these 6 common pitfalls and instead focus on asking politely and accepting the fact that you, yourself made a grievously idiotic error than perhaps you could have drum up some sympathy and had the metal beast freed. As is, I think you’ll be calling a cab.
That's....what exactly?
Ok, this has been haunting me since I saw it on the Skytrain this evening. If you have a single strip of hair down the middle of your skull, and have it spiked, it’s a Mohawk, yes? So what is it called if you have a single strip of hair down the middle of your skull, but rather than spiked it’s luxuriously combed, professionally styled and dyed the faintest tint of girlish pink despite you being a 6 foot full grown adult male in a black leather trench coat and army boots?
Someone actually asked him if it was Halloween. To which he replied “EVERY DAY IS HALLOWEEN!~!”.
So I guess it’s called the complete inability to read a calendar? But at least if he thinks its Halloween that’s somewhat of a rational explanation. I’d hate to think he got up this morning and actually thought he had fashion sense.
Stalkergate Update
For those of you wondering wtf is up with the Fangirl. Well, it turns out she really is a complete, raving lunatic. Not that that comes as any surprise. We were able to track down who she was and where she lived, but the police recommended against pressing charges. Because the police are already intimately familiar with this woman and we're merely the latest in a long line of people and places she's harassed.
According to the police she fixates on things and there's not much we can do except wait for her to move on to her next insane fixation. She's not rational enough to stand trial so charges are pointless. However, the police are going to notify her mental health team ( Yes...she has a team. ) and ask them to see what they can do about alleviating the problem.
In all fairness, she has been calling quite a bit less lately and I've recently discovered she despises our on hold music or some such. It forces her to hang up rather than me. Which seems to be working for crushing her fragile heart and driving her onwards to her next victim, whether it be sentient or inanimate.
Hot Tips
Alrighty……let’s see if I can unravel this one. You know, they always seem lucid at first. It’s not until they start to explain why they’re calling that things start getting…..odd.
See, her papers were stolen. I do not know what these papers are, exactly. Just that there were papers, and they were stolen. All of them. They stole her papers ( Her Canadian papers and her American papers ) and the US Government stole her inheritance. The inheritance which she received after her Uncle Murray, who lives in Canada, was kidnapped and murdered by….er…”Them”. I do not know who “Them” is, but “They” slew her uncle. Than took all his stuff and sold it. Than took all his property and sold it. Poor Uncle Murray. He was liquidated by the nefarious Them.
Them than went on to slay her grandmother. But Them got her in the States. But no one in the States knows about. It’s a secret. Only Canada knows about this dark deed. Not anyone specific in Canada. But rather, all of us. Like all of Canada watched her grandmother’s demise one evening after it was inadvertently broadcast live half way through Hockey Night in Canada. I assume the lot of us dismissed it as a Subway commercial and continued watching the game.
Halfway through this conversation the United States of America became the United Kingdom. Which she was than under the impression was south of Canada. Than British Columbia became the United Kingdom all of a sudden and she was under the impression United Kingdom was north of the US. At which point I tried to inform her that the United Kingdom was in Europe. To which she responded “Yeah” like I was a raging tardstick. So she indeed appears to believe that Europe is part of or somehow encompasses North America.
Also, the government is stealing all her stuff and kidnapping her relatives and murdering them and stealing their stuff but only Canada knows.
Got it?
I guess?
SC: “Do stretchy pants shrink when you wash them?”
A better question would be: Does it really matter?
ESCAPE~
Me: "Ok, and what would like to order?"
SC: "uhh....item numbar xxxx"
......the “Liquid Escape Pants”? Liquid. Escape. Pants. Isn’t there someone, somewhere at that company that has to approve product names? Because I can’t see how that one could have possibly flown under the radar. Liquid Escape Pants. That does not sound “hip” ( per the product description ) in any way shape or form. It sounds like you have severe bladder problems and need a customized drainage system to go about your daily life.
The description also indicates it has “Inner thigh venting”. Which….doesn’t really sound positive to be honest. These appear to be ski pants. Which indicates a fairly cold climate in which you will hurdled through at high speed. So these pants are specifically designed to vent all incoming cold air directly into the areas where you are most vulnerable.
A Questionable Inquiry
Apparent, my nubile girlish figure retains its potency. Whilst walking to the bus stop this evening, on a road completely by myself and with my hood up so one could not see my hair, or lack thereof. A vehicle came around the corner and as it drove past me, someone leaned out the back seat window and yelled at me. In all seriousness. And I quote:
“SHOW US YOUR TITS!”
An intriguing request to squawk at me from a passing vehicle and really quite the last thing I expected to be asked. But even if I were to comply with it I can guarantee you’ll be deeply disappointed.
What? ...no
Me: “Ok, anything else?”
SC: “No, that’s everything.”
Me: “Alright-“
SC: “Do you need my social insurance card?”
Me: “…..no.”
SC: “I have a social insurance card.”
Good for you…..but I don’t need that information. In fact, very few interactions in your daily life are going to require that information. I’m assuming that you recently obtained either a Visa or Mastercard through some dubious means and have recently witnessed the seemingly magical powers it possesses to summon pants, hats and pizza. However, just because it has such abilities doesn’t mean that every card in your wallet has a similar magical properties. You cannot obtain pants with your Social Insurance Card, Carecard, Driver’s License or Female Body Inspector card.
Oh?
Me: "Good evening, <company> are you calling to place an order?"
SC: “What an awful time of night be spending money.”
Not awful enough to stop you though, eh? If you’re going to make a random, irrational statement in response to my questions at least show some conviction and back it up with action. Come on, grow a back bone! Show some confidence! Stand up for your beliefs! Hang that phone up right this minute and don’t call back until daylight breaks. Say around, oh…I don’t know, 7:01am?
( Note: I get off at 7 =p )
SO. MANY. WORDS.
Me: “Ok, and your postal code?”
SC: “Oh…..ummm……”
Me: “…….?”
SC: “Sorry, I was just reading the paper so now my head is all full of facts and things.”
Indeed. Not a lot of drive space in your brain box is there? Maybe you should just stop reading altogether. It may be safer that way. There’s no telling what sort of damage you’ll inflict on yourself if you persist. Basic literacy is simply too dangerous to risk. In fact, for your own safety maybe we should just skip the phone number and email address questions altogether. I’d hate to inadvertently wipe half your childhood.
Lost In Translation
I do not speak German. I appreciate that you have learned enough English to ask “Do you speak German?”. However, it seems you have not learned enough English to realize that “No” in English does not mean “Why yes, I speak perfect German. I’m just pretending not to in order to frustrate and enrage you because I am jerk and think yours is a country of suspenders and hairy women. Now why don’t you run along and shave your wife's back or whatever it is you do over there.” in German.
The Fangirl
I think….I inadvertently made the lunatic cry this evening. I’m not sure if I should feel a little bad about it or somewhat proud of myself. I began putting her on hold again so she could have a wonderful, lurid conversation with our on hold music. She did not like this. Eventually she called back in a tears, and I put her on hold again……and she hasn’t called since. I’m not sure what that says about our on hold music but there you go.
But I’m all for anything that can derail the crazy train at this point.
MY EYES
Me: “Ok, and what would you like to order?”
SC: “These BABE PHA TA CAT LO”
That would be “Baby Fat Tag Cat Low”. Which, on the surface, appears to be some sort of alien code. But on closer examination is actually this monstrosity:
It comes in White / Fuchsia for a “girly feel”. Also, if you stare at it for 30 seconds than look at a white wall you can see the outline.
Me: “Ok, anything else?”
SC: “and uh…..this camo sweater. Pink camo.”
Oh no. No no no. TURN BACK WHILE YOU STILL CAN.
Me: “What’s the item number?”
SC: “xxxx”
Oh yes. Drink it in.
SC: “This is fer my girlfriend”
I’m amused you felt the need to clarify that to protect your fragile masculinity. That aside, there are only a limited number of reasons why you would possibly think this is a good idea:
A) She’s colour blind.
B) You want her to break up with you.
C) She’s a crossing guard.
D) You keep her in the basement where the light of day does not touch her.
E) She's 6.
I can’t conceive of any other reasons a human being with functioning eyeballs would combine these articles of clothing.
Facade
Do you desperately want to sound important? Do you want to puff yourself up in every ridiculously imaginative way possible? Than follow these easy steps:
1) Refer to yourself as “Mr Caesar Vincent Jr the 3rd”. Be sure to specify that the 3 is a roman numeral.
2) Explain that you may not answer your cell phone because, you are, and I quote “on the constantly move, because I’m a bizzzzzzness man, yo”
3) Kindly inform me, the peon, that I can speak with your secretary regarding it. It being your missing free magazine offer.
4) Insert side comment about owning stocks in Wall Street. Not at any specific company. Just in the street itself.
5) Insert clever anecdote about how you have two other employees that can assist me as well if need be.
6) Explain that you don’t have the number to either employee, but I can reach either if I call the MGM Grand in Las Vegas and ask for the penthouse.
7) Do all of this in a tone of voice and using the vocabulary of a man whose educational level does not exceed the 4th grade all the while speaking in "gangsta".
Congratulations, now you too are an couch chewing monkey child attempting to pass yourself off as a Fortune 500 CEO.
.....
SC: “One of the girls accidentally shut down our computer earlier.”
Me: “Ok”
SC: “But I don’t know where the power switch is to turn it back on!”
Alrighty.....well, I can help you, but before I do, you might want to take your coffee mug out of the “cup holder”.
The Parkade
Ahhh..the parkade. That dark, insidious dungeon from which no car ever seems to escape. Typically, because their owners cannot read, grasp or comprehend giant, clearly visible signs that state when the parkade closes. That said, if you do find your mighty steel chariot trapped in one of these dark recesses and need to call someone to free it, there’s a few things you probably should avoid:
1) Starting every sentence with “Dude!”
While you may be under some sort of odd impression that this is somehow “cool” I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Beginning a sentence with “dude” has not born any inherent cool factor since the late 80’s, early 90’s and was largely confined to surfers and children with a near cult like adoration for Michelangelo from the Ninja Turtles.
Even if you did fall into either of these categories at some point, just let it go. Dude, those days are past.
2) Swearing by the second call.
Just because you have not gotten your way in under 5 minutes does not mean you need to trot out the F-Bomb. The F-Bomb is an unwieldy weapon of mass destruction in the customer service industry. When hurled at an unsuspecting foe it deals at least 6D6 damage to any given CSR’s Sympathy and an additional 4D6 to any other coworkers within 15 feet.
The whole point of this is to try and increase the target’s Sympathy.
3) Swearing by the 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th calls.
What did I just tell you? You’re not going to achieve victory here by trying to link some sort of multi-hit fail combo.
4) Whining like a 4 year old about how no one told you the parkade closes at 1am.
No one is required to tell you. That’s why there’s signs. It’s generally expected that the average car owner is literate and has at least enough vision to avoid barreling through crosswalks at high speeds. I know the latter is kind of iffy in Vancouver, but you must have at least needed to fill something out before you were given a driver’s license.
…..you do have a driver’s license, don’t you?
5) Threatening to “sue your ass!” because no one told you the parkade closes at 1am.
Ah....the lawsuit threat. You know, 99.4% of the time the one deploying the lawsuit threat has utterly no legal basis to actually launch a lawsuit, right? Guess which category you fall into? Unfortunately, “I’m stupid, give me money” doesn't hold up too well in court unless, on the off chance, hot coffee and your testicles are involved.
6) You have a $12,000 trip to go on tomorrow and you need your car because all your luggage is in it.
Ok, little hint: It’s a tad late to be playing the Sympathy Card. You’re suppose to try it before launching the Lawsuit Card or throwing the F-Bomb. Generally, you get better results that way. You’re doing this all backwards, you know.
In the future, you should try to avoid these 6 common pitfalls and instead focus on asking politely and accepting the fact that you, yourself made a grievously idiotic error than perhaps you could have drum up some sympathy and had the metal beast freed. As is, I think you’ll be calling a cab.
That's....what exactly?
Ok, this has been haunting me since I saw it on the Skytrain this evening. If you have a single strip of hair down the middle of your skull, and have it spiked, it’s a Mohawk, yes? So what is it called if you have a single strip of hair down the middle of your skull, but rather than spiked it’s luxuriously combed, professionally styled and dyed the faintest tint of girlish pink despite you being a 6 foot full grown adult male in a black leather trench coat and army boots?
Someone actually asked him if it was Halloween. To which he replied “EVERY DAY IS HALLOWEEN!~!”.
So I guess it’s called the complete inability to read a calendar? But at least if he thinks its Halloween that’s somewhat of a rational explanation. I’d hate to think he got up this morning and actually thought he had fashion sense.
Stalkergate Update
For those of you wondering wtf is up with the Fangirl. Well, it turns out she really is a complete, raving lunatic. Not that that comes as any surprise. We were able to track down who she was and where she lived, but the police recommended against pressing charges. Because the police are already intimately familiar with this woman and we're merely the latest in a long line of people and places she's harassed.
According to the police she fixates on things and there's not much we can do except wait for her to move on to her next insane fixation. She's not rational enough to stand trial so charges are pointless. However, the police are going to notify her mental health team ( Yes...she has a team. ) and ask them to see what they can do about alleviating the problem.
In all fairness, she has been calling quite a bit less lately and I've recently discovered she despises our on hold music or some such. It forces her to hang up rather than me. Which seems to be working for crushing her fragile heart and driving her onwards to her next victim, whether it be sentient or inanimate.
the pink camo! It hurts!!!!! 
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