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Ahhh, finally...days off. But now its hot out. ><
No One Is Safe!
Me: "Good morning, <my actual company name, this is our corporate line>"
SC: "Ya, I din' get ma Walmart bill."
Me: "…ok, I believe you have the wrong number."
SC: "I do?"
Me: "Yes"
SC: "Do you know the right number?"
Me: "….no."
Ah yes…..Walmart…..where they need a door greeter just to reassure half the shoppers they're even in the right place. Normally, I would be annoyed for being asked such stupid question. However, my fine, hairy, mountain dwelling, inbred moonshine hooch honkey friend, I do understand. To you, us operators must seem like absolute pinnacles of intelligence. Our brilliance must shine down and illuminate every scruffy, plaid covered, Spam grease splattered inch of your dim, feeble life. So I understand why you might think I know the answer to such a question. Since from your point of view, it must seem as if I know the answer to everything, even the very meaning of life itself.
By the way, the answer to that one is 42. But no, I do not know the number to Walmart.
Death by Freebie
The <hotel name> in Anchorage apparently has two rooms left which are completely free. Since they only cost blank dollars according to the system. Sweet. Not that I'll tell callers that. Using the word "free" in conjunction with any sort of product is kind of like a half wit mating call. They'll come from miles around and crawl out of the darkest corners of the earth just for something free. It'd be a stampede, none of us would be safe!
I'd rather not die shrieking under the pink camo moo moos and velcro sneakers of raging bargain lust that would surely descent upon me.
Escape
( Calling from an airport to book a hotel.. )
Me: "Do you have a pen there?"
SC: "Yeah-, wait, my pen ran away."
I hope that's a figure of speech, otherwise pay no attention to the dog sniffing your luggage.
Onto Himself
Me: "Alright, I can have a company rep return your c-"
SC: "Yeah, my name's Bob Scott"
Me: "Ok, are you in Canada or the US?"
SC: "Bob Scott."
Ah, yes. Meet Mr Bob Scott: The man, the legend, the COUNTRY.
Extra Services
SC: "Can I speak to someone about the oral stove?"
…the…what? I can't tell if you're serious or if you're propositioning me. If it’s the former, you'll have to call back in an hour and a half. If it’s the later, you'll have to call back in 17 minutes. I'm still on shift right now. Kiss kiss~
Kara.....
( Take your monkeys back! )
SC: "Yeah, how do I get picture messages on my cell phone?"
How did you even get this number? Why is this even important at 2am? What could possibly have been emailed to you that would cause such a misguided crisis at this time of night? Wait, don't answer that, actually. I don't really want to know because I have a feeling that someone, somewhere, that’s somehow related to you has a cellphone down his or her pants and KFC condiments may or may not be involved.
Feminine Side
( This is a client's on call tech picking up a case )
Me: "Ok, the call is from Caleigh at such and such store-"
OC: "Oh, she's cute."
Me: "Actually it's a he."
OC: "…oh."
Oh cool. Being a guy I've never actually had an opportunity to completely crush a man's sexual hopes with but a single sentence. You ladies get to do this all the time? Damn. I'm almost jealous.
Repeat Customer
How long does it take the average <store type> clerk to break his office computer? Twice? Approximately 14 minutes it seems. Yep, he called in, the tech called him, fixed the problem, then 14 minutes later he called back saying he broke it again. Bravo, monkey boy, bravo.
Displacement
SC: "I can't hear you, where are you?!"
Well, last I checked I was sitting at my desk. But I suppose it is possible that in some point over the last 20 seconds I was catapulted through the ceiling, into the atmosphere and to the far side of lunar orbit. Give me a sec, just let me double check…..hmmm……no, I'm not surrounded by a black void in a complete vacuum in the bleak nothingness of space. So I guess I'm still at my desk. Although its reassuring to know that even if I was launched into the far reaches of the cosmos I *still* wouldn't be able to escape this headset.
Its All About Location
SC: "Why you here this late?"
I'm not there this late. I'm here this late. If I was there this late I'd be standing behind you, making throttling motions at the air while I desperately tried to figure out how I could hide the body in a hurry. But, luckily for you, I'm here, where I can only shake my head and roll my eyes at you in impotent annoyance.
Bad Touch
Me: "Alright, is your home number still the same?"
SC: "No, its different now. Its xxx-xxx-xxxx"
I have the old number on call display! Lies! LIES! You're trying to hide from us. You've done something wrong and you're trying to cover the trail, yet you're still compelled to take us up on our wonderful lottery ticket deals. What did you do? Steal a car? Kill a hobo? Molest a porpoise at the Vancouver Aquarium? ( Are you burying the scuba gear in the back yard of your new safe house as we speak? ). Tell me! I must know! Let me share the excitement of being a wild outlaw with you. I work nights and don't get out much. Let me know the thrill of, er….inappropriately……..touching a large aquatic mammal……um…..ok, scratch that. How many tickets did you want again?
Yes, I know, there's something wrong with me. =p
No One Is Safe!
Me: "Good morning, <my actual company name, this is our corporate line>"
SC: "Ya, I din' get ma Walmart bill."
Me: "…ok, I believe you have the wrong number."
SC: "I do?"
Me: "Yes"
SC: "Do you know the right number?"
Me: "….no."
Ah yes…..Walmart…..where they need a door greeter just to reassure half the shoppers they're even in the right place. Normally, I would be annoyed for being asked such stupid question. However, my fine, hairy, mountain dwelling, inbred moonshine hooch honkey friend, I do understand. To you, us operators must seem like absolute pinnacles of intelligence. Our brilliance must shine down and illuminate every scruffy, plaid covered, Spam grease splattered inch of your dim, feeble life. So I understand why you might think I know the answer to such a question. Since from your point of view, it must seem as if I know the answer to everything, even the very meaning of life itself.
By the way, the answer to that one is 42. But no, I do not know the number to Walmart.
Death by Freebie
The <hotel name> in Anchorage apparently has two rooms left which are completely free. Since they only cost blank dollars according to the system. Sweet. Not that I'll tell callers that. Using the word "free" in conjunction with any sort of product is kind of like a half wit mating call. They'll come from miles around and crawl out of the darkest corners of the earth just for something free. It'd be a stampede, none of us would be safe!
I'd rather not die shrieking under the pink camo moo moos and velcro sneakers of raging bargain lust that would surely descent upon me.
Escape
( Calling from an airport to book a hotel.. )
Me: "Do you have a pen there?"
SC: "Yeah-, wait, my pen ran away."
I hope that's a figure of speech, otherwise pay no attention to the dog sniffing your luggage.
Onto Himself
Me: "Alright, I can have a company rep return your c-"
SC: "Yeah, my name's Bob Scott"
Me: "Ok, are you in Canada or the US?"
SC: "Bob Scott."
Ah, yes. Meet Mr Bob Scott: The man, the legend, the COUNTRY.
Extra Services
SC: "Can I speak to someone about the oral stove?"
…the…what? I can't tell if you're serious or if you're propositioning me. If it’s the former, you'll have to call back in an hour and a half. If it’s the later, you'll have to call back in 17 minutes. I'm still on shift right now. Kiss kiss~
Kara.....
( Take your monkeys back! )
SC: "Yeah, how do I get picture messages on my cell phone?"
How did you even get this number? Why is this even important at 2am? What could possibly have been emailed to you that would cause such a misguided crisis at this time of night? Wait, don't answer that, actually. I don't really want to know because I have a feeling that someone, somewhere, that’s somehow related to you has a cellphone down his or her pants and KFC condiments may or may not be involved.
Feminine Side
( This is a client's on call tech picking up a case )
Me: "Ok, the call is from Caleigh at such and such store-"
OC: "Oh, she's cute."
Me: "Actually it's a he."
OC: "…oh."
Oh cool. Being a guy I've never actually had an opportunity to completely crush a man's sexual hopes with but a single sentence. You ladies get to do this all the time? Damn. I'm almost jealous.
Repeat Customer
How long does it take the average <store type> clerk to break his office computer? Twice? Approximately 14 minutes it seems. Yep, he called in, the tech called him, fixed the problem, then 14 minutes later he called back saying he broke it again. Bravo, monkey boy, bravo.
Displacement
SC: "I can't hear you, where are you?!"
Well, last I checked I was sitting at my desk. But I suppose it is possible that in some point over the last 20 seconds I was catapulted through the ceiling, into the atmosphere and to the far side of lunar orbit. Give me a sec, just let me double check…..hmmm……no, I'm not surrounded by a black void in a complete vacuum in the bleak nothingness of space. So I guess I'm still at my desk. Although its reassuring to know that even if I was launched into the far reaches of the cosmos I *still* wouldn't be able to escape this headset.
Its All About Location
SC: "Why you here this late?"
I'm not there this late. I'm here this late. If I was there this late I'd be standing behind you, making throttling motions at the air while I desperately tried to figure out how I could hide the body in a hurry. But, luckily for you, I'm here, where I can only shake my head and roll my eyes at you in impotent annoyance.
Bad Touch
Me: "Alright, is your home number still the same?"
SC: "No, its different now. Its xxx-xxx-xxxx"
I have the old number on call display! Lies! LIES! You're trying to hide from us. You've done something wrong and you're trying to cover the trail, yet you're still compelled to take us up on our wonderful lottery ticket deals. What did you do? Steal a car? Kill a hobo? Molest a porpoise at the Vancouver Aquarium? ( Are you burying the scuba gear in the back yard of your new safe house as we speak? ). Tell me! I must know! Let me share the excitement of being a wild outlaw with you. I work nights and don't get out much. Let me know the thrill of, er….inappropriately……..touching a large aquatic mammal……um…..ok, scratch that. How many tickets did you want again?
Yes, I know, there's something wrong with me. =p
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