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Wherein We Invent The Perfect Holiday Gift
Same old, same old.... -.-
Professional Help
SC: “In your professional opinion, are tickets 1 for $50?"
Er, why yes. In my professional opinion, they are indeed 1 for $50. In fact, I’m actually quite decorated in this field of research and have verified this theory over countless experiments. It took many years of hard work in a specialized subterranean lab and several government grants, but I have indeed made countless breakthroughs in this field of study. Yet, there is still ever more to discovery! We will never truly know all there is to know about lottery tickets. Not in our lifetime at least. But hopefully my work will leave an undeniable mark on humanity as a whole as we struggle to understand what we are, what our place in the universe is and how much our VISA will be charged for a lottery ticket.
Sorry About That
Me: “Are you 19 or older?”
SC: “OH GOD”
I sense perhaps that I have just clued you in to the crushing knowledge of your own mortality. Please accept my humble apologies.
The Lap Of Luxury
SC: “Well what happens when you page them? Does their phone ring? Does it keep ringing or does it just ring once?”
Me: “I’m sorry ma’am, I wouldn’t know, it’s up to them how they would have their cell phone configured.”
SC: “Well, not much is up to you is it? Must be a nice life! <click>”
Really? That’s the snarky send off you’re going to go with here? You’re going with “Must be a nice life!” towards the guy whose job is to sacrifice a normal life just so he stay up all night just in case idiots such as yourself have an emergency? You must have a most peculiar mental image of what a call centre looks like. I assure you, we have neither luxurious cots to lounge on nor glistening toga clad man servants to feed us grapes between calls.
Now if you’ll excuse me, it is time for my personal attendants to lather me with warm olive oil while humming the theme from Knight Rider.
Why Is This Question So Hard
Me: “And your phone number please, sir?”
SC: “Oh, um……errr……….uh…”
Yeah, that one’s kind of a curveball, isn’t it?
Thanks For That
Me: “And your email please, ma’am?”
SC: “MoistBelowDeck@xxxxx.com”
......Well, thank you, ma’am. Here I was just plodding my way through the call, wistfully wondering “Damn, this is so boring. If only there was some way I could make this uncomfortably awkward!”. Then you came racing in to my rescue. Please, allow me to repeat that back to you for confirmation so we can both take an extra moment or two to really revel in the awkwardness.
Are You Listening, Toy Makers?
( Just to quantify the stupidity here, this line sells only one product which is in the greeting phrase. )
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “What are you selling?”
…...Ornate reproductions of 16th century door knockers featuring characters from My Little Pony. They’re all the craze for the holiday season. Would you like one? We even have some that Talk When You Knock™ and one model of Rainbow Dash that dispenses apology candy out of her nostrils if no one answers the door after 60 seconds.
Tit For Tat
SC: “Is this a cab?”
Me: “No, sorry. You have the wrong number.”
SC: “Oh. Could I get the number to Richmond Cab?”
I fear I do not understand the question. Well, I understand the question, but not the motivations which propelled it forward from your brain to your mouth. Why, oh why would you ask me that? I gave no indication whatsoever that I would possess such knowledge and you clearly did not listen to the first thing I said when I answered. Which means your thought process must literally be “I have just called a total stranger by accident in the dead of night…….obviously this is the best time to inquire as to whether or not they possess the power of clairvoyance!”
Tell you what, since you appear perfectly content to foist an impolite burden upon a total stranger in the middle of the night, then you won’t mind if I make a similar request: If you can tell me the phone number of the Build A Bear Workshop off the top of your head, I’ll tell you the phone number of Richmond Cab. Deal? You get a ride home, I get to order the construction of a heartless yet cuddly stuffed minion to carry out my diabolical plans. Or just sit on my desk at home and be hidden in the closet out of embarrassment whenever I have company.
One Of You Out There Has This Story
( This guy is, for some reason, calling the tech support line for a certain major store chain. So some store clerk out there is probably bitching about this exact same story online somewhere. >.> )
SC: “I was just wondering if it was your company’s policy to have your employees to tell someone to fuck off in your stores.”
Well......I rather doubt it’s standard operating procedure for any major retailer. But I haven’t been to <store> in a while. So maybe things have changed recently. Tell me, what did this dastardly employee do to you?
SC: “All I said was: I’ve told what I need to tell you three times, are you on drugs?! Then he told me: I’m cashing out, sir and to get out of his store, then he told me to Fuck off!”
So….you berated the clerk like an idiot while he was trying to close the store and accused him of drug use, and he *gasp* got upset and threw you out of the store? You don’t say! Why, truly that is completely unexpected isn’t it? I trust you were completely, unfailingly polite the entire time and did nothing else to antagonize him or provoke him either to achieve foul language in response.
Truly, you have been greatly wronged here.
Possibly
SC: “Is this the government?!”
That depends, which government in specific are you trying to reach? If you were just trying to reach a government, then you have in fact come through to the Prime Minister of MyDeskia, a tiny pacific country which forms and disbands a couple of days a week but only for around 9 hours at a time. If you hurry, you might be able to apply for a work VISA before my great nation disbands once more.
Alrighty Then
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “No!”
Me: “Pardon?”
SC: “But the lottery is…..I want too! I just, you…...I can’t order tickets now!”
Allllright…..If I might make a small request: If you’re going to keep up this odd argument with yourself, do you think you could at least change your voice a little bit when arguing the opposing side? Just so I know which one of you is Gollum and which one is Smeagol? Thanks!
Down Boy
Me: “And which credit card would you like to use, sir?”
SC: “I got a Visa Scotia Align Visa Scotia Bank Scotia Bank Visa.”
Whoa, easy there, lad. Calm down. Take a deep breath. It’s alright. Everything is going to be ok. You’ll get your pants. You’ll even get them in time for Christmas. Everything is ok. I know, the prospect of an entirely new piece of clothing to shield your groin against the elements in is super exciting, but you’ve gotta pace yourself, man. If you’re this wound up just paying for it, then the next 2 weeks waiting for it to arrive are not going to go particularly well for you. In fact at this point I’d be willing to put money on this ending up in a hostage situation by week 2 if this call is any indication.
Red October
Me: “Good evening, <company> tech support.”
SC: “*PING* Hi, this is <company> *PING* in Ottawa.”
Me: “Yes?”
SC: “*PING* Can you check our system *PING* I think something's gone do*PING*”
This may sound like a rather peculiar question, but are you using your iPhone to hunt submarines? If so, could you kindly turn off the sonar for a couple of minutes until you’re off the phone? That would be great, thanks.
Perhaps, Some Day
Me: “And your phone number please, sir?”
SC: “Um……”
Curses! Is there none amongst you who can answer this Sphinx’s riddle? Try harder! You know not what treasures lay within! All these, and tech support, could all be yours if only you honed your wits! Also, failing the Sphinx’s riddle usually ends with something in the area of “Pit full of scorpions”. So you might want to brush up for the future. Just in case.
annnnnd rest
Professional Help
SC: “In your professional opinion, are tickets 1 for $50?"
Er, why yes. In my professional opinion, they are indeed 1 for $50. In fact, I’m actually quite decorated in this field of research and have verified this theory over countless experiments. It took many years of hard work in a specialized subterranean lab and several government grants, but I have indeed made countless breakthroughs in this field of study. Yet, there is still ever more to discovery! We will never truly know all there is to know about lottery tickets. Not in our lifetime at least. But hopefully my work will leave an undeniable mark on humanity as a whole as we struggle to understand what we are, what our place in the universe is and how much our VISA will be charged for a lottery ticket.
Sorry About That
Me: “Are you 19 or older?”
SC: “OH GOD”
I sense perhaps that I have just clued you in to the crushing knowledge of your own mortality. Please accept my humble apologies.
The Lap Of Luxury
SC: “Well what happens when you page them? Does their phone ring? Does it keep ringing or does it just ring once?”
Me: “I’m sorry ma’am, I wouldn’t know, it’s up to them how they would have their cell phone configured.”
SC: “Well, not much is up to you is it? Must be a nice life! <click>”
Really? That’s the snarky send off you’re going to go with here? You’re going with “Must be a nice life!” towards the guy whose job is to sacrifice a normal life just so he stay up all night just in case idiots such as yourself have an emergency? You must have a most peculiar mental image of what a call centre looks like. I assure you, we have neither luxurious cots to lounge on nor glistening toga clad man servants to feed us grapes between calls.
Now if you’ll excuse me, it is time for my personal attendants to lather me with warm olive oil while humming the theme from Knight Rider.
Why Is This Question So Hard
Me: “And your phone number please, sir?”
SC: “Oh, um……errr……….uh…”
Yeah, that one’s kind of a curveball, isn’t it?
Thanks For That
Me: “And your email please, ma’am?”
SC: “MoistBelowDeck@xxxxx.com”
......Well, thank you, ma’am. Here I was just plodding my way through the call, wistfully wondering “Damn, this is so boring. If only there was some way I could make this uncomfortably awkward!”. Then you came racing in to my rescue. Please, allow me to repeat that back to you for confirmation so we can both take an extra moment or two to really revel in the awkwardness.
Are You Listening, Toy Makers?
( Just to quantify the stupidity here, this line sells only one product which is in the greeting phrase. )
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “What are you selling?”
…...Ornate reproductions of 16th century door knockers featuring characters from My Little Pony. They’re all the craze for the holiday season. Would you like one? We even have some that Talk When You Knock™ and one model of Rainbow Dash that dispenses apology candy out of her nostrils if no one answers the door after 60 seconds.
Tit For Tat
SC: “Is this a cab?”
Me: “No, sorry. You have the wrong number.”
SC: “Oh. Could I get the number to Richmond Cab?”
I fear I do not understand the question. Well, I understand the question, but not the motivations which propelled it forward from your brain to your mouth. Why, oh why would you ask me that? I gave no indication whatsoever that I would possess such knowledge and you clearly did not listen to the first thing I said when I answered. Which means your thought process must literally be “I have just called a total stranger by accident in the dead of night…….obviously this is the best time to inquire as to whether or not they possess the power of clairvoyance!”
Tell you what, since you appear perfectly content to foist an impolite burden upon a total stranger in the middle of the night, then you won’t mind if I make a similar request: If you can tell me the phone number of the Build A Bear Workshop off the top of your head, I’ll tell you the phone number of Richmond Cab. Deal? You get a ride home, I get to order the construction of a heartless yet cuddly stuffed minion to carry out my diabolical plans. Or just sit on my desk at home and be hidden in the closet out of embarrassment whenever I have company.
One Of You Out There Has This Story
( This guy is, for some reason, calling the tech support line for a certain major store chain. So some store clerk out there is probably bitching about this exact same story online somewhere. >.> )
SC: “I was just wondering if it was your company’s policy to have your employees to tell someone to fuck off in your stores.”
Well......I rather doubt it’s standard operating procedure for any major retailer. But I haven’t been to <store> in a while. So maybe things have changed recently. Tell me, what did this dastardly employee do to you?
SC: “All I said was: I’ve told what I need to tell you three times, are you on drugs?! Then he told me: I’m cashing out, sir and to get out of his store, then he told me to Fuck off!”
So….you berated the clerk like an idiot while he was trying to close the store and accused him of drug use, and he *gasp* got upset and threw you out of the store? You don’t say! Why, truly that is completely unexpected isn’t it? I trust you were completely, unfailingly polite the entire time and did nothing else to antagonize him or provoke him either to achieve foul language in response.
Truly, you have been greatly wronged here.
Possibly
SC: “Is this the government?!”
That depends, which government in specific are you trying to reach? If you were just trying to reach a government, then you have in fact come through to the Prime Minister of MyDeskia, a tiny pacific country which forms and disbands a couple of days a week but only for around 9 hours at a time. If you hurry, you might be able to apply for a work VISA before my great nation disbands once more.
Alrighty Then
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “No!”
Me: “Pardon?”
SC: “But the lottery is…..I want too! I just, you…...I can’t order tickets now!”
Allllright…..If I might make a small request: If you’re going to keep up this odd argument with yourself, do you think you could at least change your voice a little bit when arguing the opposing side? Just so I know which one of you is Gollum and which one is Smeagol? Thanks!
Down Boy
Me: “And which credit card would you like to use, sir?”
SC: “I got a Visa Scotia Align Visa Scotia Bank Scotia Bank Visa.”
Whoa, easy there, lad. Calm down. Take a deep breath. It’s alright. Everything is going to be ok. You’ll get your pants. You’ll even get them in time for Christmas. Everything is ok. I know, the prospect of an entirely new piece of clothing to shield your groin against the elements in is super exciting, but you’ve gotta pace yourself, man. If you’re this wound up just paying for it, then the next 2 weeks waiting for it to arrive are not going to go particularly well for you. In fact at this point I’d be willing to put money on this ending up in a hostage situation by week 2 if this call is any indication.
Red October
Me: “Good evening, <company> tech support.”
SC: “*PING* Hi, this is <company> *PING* in Ottawa.”
Me: “Yes?”
SC: “*PING* Can you check our system *PING* I think something's gone do*PING*”
This may sound like a rather peculiar question, but are you using your iPhone to hunt submarines? If so, could you kindly turn off the sonar for a couple of minutes until you’re off the phone? That would be great, thanks.
Perhaps, Some Day
Me: “And your phone number please, sir?”
SC: “Um……”
Curses! Is there none amongst you who can answer this Sphinx’s riddle? Try harder! You know not what treasures lay within! All these, and tech support, could all be yours if only you honed your wits! Also, failing the Sphinx’s riddle usually ends with something in the area of “Pit full of scorpions”. So you might want to brush up for the future. Just in case.
annnnnd rest
Okay, I definitely want a job there!!
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