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Wherein I Solve the Case
November Daylight Savings *sucks* when you work graveyard. ><
I'm Not Real
SC: "Is this the afterhours service?"
Me: "Yes it is"
SC: "Oh, I wanted to talk to one of the actual operators."
As opposed to me, the fake operator, who has really just been spinning an elaborate web of deceit over this entire company for the past 5 years or so and is really a 47 year old ex-plumber from Baltimore named "Mel Inglebus" that fled to Canada to escape his vast cockfight gambling debt.
Unnecessary Information
Me: "Hi, it’s the afterhours service here. I just have a call for you."
SC: "Oh, uh. Hmm. I don't have any clothes on. Can you give me a number or something or? Wait, I'll can just put on a robe or something I guess."
Gyah! Just do whatever it is you have to do and stop reminding me that your boy bits are air drying. That’s not information I need to know nor is it information you should be just randomly sharing with strangers. I like how you just kind of tossed it in too like: "Hey, by the way I can feel a breeze on my wrinkled sack fuzz! Anyway, what were you saying?"
According to Plan
Me: "Ok, what system do you have?"
SC: "What system? I don't know. I've never been asked that before."
Me: "Alright, well we're afterhours now so I'd normally need the system type in order to contact the right tech"
SC: "Fine, I'll play your silly little game."
Oh, I'm sorry. The on call technician appears to be in another castle.
Dun na na na na na NA!
"Cowboy from Hell! Dun na na na na na NA! Dun na na na na na NA!"
No I have no idea either. But apparently it was important enough to merit shouting out on the Skytrain this evening. What does a Cowboy from Hell look like you ask? Well, oddly, exactly like Ronald Mcdonald but with neon pink hair.
Also, I got stalled on the narrow bit of sidewalk on Granville tonight because Cookie Monster wouldn't get the hell out of my way. I don't want to have to tell Cookie Monster to get the hell out of my way. But I will if he doesn't move his furry blue ass faster. Oh, and take Ernie with you since he's clutching onto you like an lusting illicit lover. Both of you just…move…while I still have some untainted childhood memories left.
Right-O
SC: "Yeah, I put ma money in da wizz thing-"
…you did? …..didn't that hurt? Shouldn't you be in the ER or something right now?
Thats not part of your service plan.
( This line is for laptop theft reporting... )
Ok, so your ex-g/f has your laptop and won't give it back. You know where she lives but its too expensive to fly there to get it. So you're calling us. Why, exactly? What precisely do you want us to do? Go there and get it for you and save you the air fare? Or mislead her into thinking she's won some sort of sweepstakes and lure her to an undisclosed location so you can confront her while the <company> team stays in the background and chants: "Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!"? Because I'll give the latter option a shot if you want to be honest.
Skytrain WTFs
Ever see someone that just strikes you as weird? Like you can't quite put your finger on it but they somehow exude a kind of "Freak Aura"? Yeah, well, that guy was on the Skytrain tonight and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Then he sat down, pulled out a butterknife, an entire box of crackers and a container of pâté and began spreading huge heaps of it onto crackers while talking on his cell phone…..
Codename
SC: "Do you have some kinda code that goes with your name?"
I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. So on that note, its xxx.
You Do That
"SC: Imma send you a message to send me ma receipt!"
Me: "…....ok?"
SC: "Imma call 1-800-FEYAHBACK n' leave a' message!"
….alright. Even if you could pronounce that correctly its still too many numbers. But, giving you the benefit of the doubt ( and believe me, having to do so even as a courtesy pains me greatly ) and say you dialed the whole thing anyhow…….that still apparently routes to some company named IntelliSystems. So, yeah, by all means feel free to call them and demand they send you your cell phone receipt.
Conjecture
( Lawyer's office )
Attempted Murder? Bravo. I usually only get DUI idiots that aren't sober enough to realize they aren't sober and deny the charges. You, ma'am ( Yes, that’s right, ma'am ) are a rare bird. Sadly I had to restrain myself from milking the arresting officer for details. Thus I did not get to overhear what complex alcohol driven plot you had devised. Thus I must rely on conjecture and circumstance.
If it pleases the court I shall attempt to recreate the events of the nigh of November 2nd:
At approximately 2:43am the defendant placed an order, by phone, to the local Pizza Hut for two large Meat Lover's pizzas. The defendant had ordered such pizzas on previous occasions and had been disappointed with the volume of meat provided. Thus the defendant was already in a state of agitation as she awaited the delivery. Evidence suggests she had been drinking and may have been watching Dog the Bounty Hunter.
At 3:13am the victim, a Pizza Hut delivery boy, arrived at the trailer park to delivery the defendant's pizza. After passing the pizza over to the defendant she conducted a quick inspection of the pizza and found that the volume of Canadian back bacon was not to her satisfaction. Already agitated from previous orders she flew into a murderous pork driven rage.
The victim took a step back from the defendant's sudden aura of porklust and it was in this moment that the defendant saw her chance to strike. Seizing the bottom of her ketchup stained IHOP t-shirt she peeled it skyward to unleash a shuddering flesh cascade of inbred pork fed she-jubblies. The victim, having been caught in full view, recoiled in horror and was temporarily stunned.
The defendant took this opportunity to call for her brother Darryl and her other brother Darryl. The pair of flannel clad siblings burst forth from behind a nearby 1986 Datson up on blocks with a dog chained to the front bumper and began to assault the victim. Staggering from the assault, the victim attempted to flee back to his novelty painted pizza delivery vehicle. However by this point the defendant had also managed to catch up to the victim.
Armed with a NASCAR commemorative plate of Richard Petty, the defendant set upon the victim. Her first ill aimed blow actually missed the victim and shattered the plate upon his Pizza Hut delivery vehicle. Weaponless, the defendant seized one of the broken shards, the one that bore only Richard Petty's mustache on it, and attempted to stab the victim repeatedly with her newly improvised stache dagger.
The victim fled around to the driver side of the vehicle and likely would not be alive today if not for the ill placed engine block in the front year that stalled the defendant's ability to pursue. The victim was able to escape in his Pizza Hut delivery vehicle while the 3 siblings jeered him with various swine noises.
That, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, is what transpired that night and why you must see justice served and find the defendent guilty.
I rest my case. <nod>
Irrational Requests.
Me: "Good evening, <company>"
SC: "Is dis the line for the….the…uh…the Johnny Cash thing?"
Me: "Pardon? No, this is <company>. You have the wrong number."
SC: "This ain't the line…for the..uh…Johnny Cash savings thing? The ad I jus' saw on tv…."
Me: "No, you have the wrong number."
SC: "The wrong number?"
Me: "Yes."
SC: "Oh…uh….do you know the right number?"
Me: "….no"
SC: "Oh…uh…okay. I'll jus hafta keep watchin' n' see if it comes on again."
Me: "…that would probably be your best option, yes."
So you somehow think that I know the number to the TV ad which you can't quite remember clearly, aren't entirely sure what is about and did not even record the phone number correctly during? We've left the realm of common sense and leap straight into the realm of Biblical miracle. While it's true I have been labeled the messiah on more then one occasion I can assure you I have no such power and if I actually did have such power you never would have been able to make this call as the second you touched the phone you would have been set upon by locusts.
Math
Me: "The office opens at 7am pacific time on Monday."
SC: "Oh, ok, what time is it there now?"
Me: "It's 6am atm."
SC: "Ok, so its 8am here right now.."
Me: "So a 2 hour time difference then."
SC: "So what time do I have to call?"
Me: "….....9am?"
SC: "Oh, uh, ok."
Doesn't it bother you that people have trained dogs with better mathematical skills then you?
A Winner is You
Me: "Good evening, <company>"
SC: "Oh! I'm sorry! I was just trying to dial out."
Well, you succeeded. You go girl.
867
Me: "It should take about two weeks to arrive."
SC: "Oh…uh….can they um, hold onto it for a while?"
Me: "The post office only holds it for so long until they send it back."
SC: "Uh…can you do somethin' about it n' get em to hold it fer a while till I get the money?"
Ok, let me pose a question back to you: Why the hell are you ordering it when you can't afford it and you KNOW you can't afford it? You've obviously evolved to the point where you're able to ascertain that the amount of shinnies you have is not sufficient to purchase the amount of pants you irrationally lust for. However, it doesn't seem like you've yet to figure out how to confront this dilemma. Sadly, there is little we can do to help you at this point. All we can do is release back you into the wild to the rest of your pack and hope that at some point the constant unrestrained inbreeding flukes out and causes at least one of you to spontaneously mutate and develop fiscal responsibility.
While its true the gene would immediately be bred right back into a gene pool already so shallow I could wade across it without getting my toenails wet…at least whatever offspring spawn from the unholy union will have enough sense to figure out that they need to aspire to something higher then gas station attendant if they want to be ordering $500 worth of pants every other week.
Repeat after me....
Despite your complete screaming 4 year old like temper tantrum and attempt to avoid taking any responsibility for your own stupidity you were unable to change the fact you were stupid enough to jam your bank card into the bill acceptor slot of the machine. So far into it that you can't even see it. You can yell, curse, swear and rail at me all you want but its not my fault you're an idiot. It's also not my fault that you managed to accomplish this stunning feat of intelligence an hour before you have to board a plane and return to your home state which, according to you, is "40,000 miles" away. A rather impressive figure I might add considering the distance around the Earth itself even at its widest point is only 24,901 miles. Meaning you must circle the Earth almost two times to return to whatever magical Narnia like lost continent that you apparently live on.
Its also not my fault that you have $9000 in that account ( A number which grew to $10,000 and finally $50,000 the longer you threw your little tantrum. I wish I could make money as fast you apparently do. ) that you won't be able to access until we can arrange to mail the card back to you. I'm assuming you've never heard of a "bank" despite the fact you somehow managed to obtain a "bank card" from one. Which implies you entered one at some point in your life. If you'll just think back to that hazy, distant time in your life you might figure out you could merely, get this, go to your bank and make a withdrawal. Crazy, I know.
A lack of intelligence on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.
I'm glad I don't work there.
This is the actual recording that plays while you're on hold to the 911 call center. With a funky trance techno kind of beat behind it no less.
"Please use 911 responsible. 911 cannot provide the magnitude of earth quakes, the reason why the power is out or what the current time is after Daylight savings time."
You know that’s only there because enough idiots call about it to make it a problem too. Also…who the hell calls 911 to ask about the magnitude of earth quakes or why the power is out? Bah, nevermind I know the answer.
I Am the Lighthouse of Hope
Me: "Alright, I'll page a tech and have him call you back then."
SC: "…so I hang up?"
Me: "…yes."
Normally I wouldn't interrupt you as you fail miserably at trying to steer the good ship Duh into port of Common Sense thus running it a ground in a wildlife reserve full of baby seals before slowly sliding back into the water like a wounded whale only to slowly beneath the waves of despair…..BUT, seeing as you're threatening to drag me down with you in the undertow I'll guide you into port. Just this once.
867
Blowing $500 on MP3 player sunglasses seems tragically unwise when you don't even know what an MP3 is. I highly doubt you even have the computer required to make use of such of device. In fact I'm willing to bet the biggest technological advancement in your home from the over the last 10 years was figuring out you could still change the TV channel with a pair of plyers after the knob fell off.
gah, days off.....finally.
I'm Not Real
SC: "Is this the afterhours service?"
Me: "Yes it is"
SC: "Oh, I wanted to talk to one of the actual operators."
As opposed to me, the fake operator, who has really just been spinning an elaborate web of deceit over this entire company for the past 5 years or so and is really a 47 year old ex-plumber from Baltimore named "Mel Inglebus" that fled to Canada to escape his vast cockfight gambling debt.
Unnecessary Information
Me: "Hi, it’s the afterhours service here. I just have a call for you."
SC: "Oh, uh. Hmm. I don't have any clothes on. Can you give me a number or something or? Wait, I'll can just put on a robe or something I guess."
Gyah! Just do whatever it is you have to do and stop reminding me that your boy bits are air drying. That’s not information I need to know nor is it information you should be just randomly sharing with strangers. I like how you just kind of tossed it in too like: "Hey, by the way I can feel a breeze on my wrinkled sack fuzz! Anyway, what were you saying?"
According to Plan
Me: "Ok, what system do you have?"
SC: "What system? I don't know. I've never been asked that before."
Me: "Alright, well we're afterhours now so I'd normally need the system type in order to contact the right tech"
SC: "Fine, I'll play your silly little game."
Oh, I'm sorry. The on call technician appears to be in another castle.
Dun na na na na na NA!
"Cowboy from Hell! Dun na na na na na NA! Dun na na na na na NA!"
No I have no idea either. But apparently it was important enough to merit shouting out on the Skytrain this evening. What does a Cowboy from Hell look like you ask? Well, oddly, exactly like Ronald Mcdonald but with neon pink hair.
Also, I got stalled on the narrow bit of sidewalk on Granville tonight because Cookie Monster wouldn't get the hell out of my way. I don't want to have to tell Cookie Monster to get the hell out of my way. But I will if he doesn't move his furry blue ass faster. Oh, and take Ernie with you since he's clutching onto you like an lusting illicit lover. Both of you just…move…while I still have some untainted childhood memories left.
Right-O
SC: "Yeah, I put ma money in da wizz thing-"
…you did? …..didn't that hurt? Shouldn't you be in the ER or something right now?
Thats not part of your service plan.
( This line is for laptop theft reporting... )
Ok, so your ex-g/f has your laptop and won't give it back. You know where she lives but its too expensive to fly there to get it. So you're calling us. Why, exactly? What precisely do you want us to do? Go there and get it for you and save you the air fare? Or mislead her into thinking she's won some sort of sweepstakes and lure her to an undisclosed location so you can confront her while the <company> team stays in the background and chants: "Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!"? Because I'll give the latter option a shot if you want to be honest.
Skytrain WTFs
Ever see someone that just strikes you as weird? Like you can't quite put your finger on it but they somehow exude a kind of "Freak Aura"? Yeah, well, that guy was on the Skytrain tonight and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Then he sat down, pulled out a butterknife, an entire box of crackers and a container of pâté and began spreading huge heaps of it onto crackers while talking on his cell phone…..
Codename
SC: "Do you have some kinda code that goes with your name?"
I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. So on that note, its xxx.
You Do That
"SC: Imma send you a message to send me ma receipt!"
Me: "…....ok?"
SC: "Imma call 1-800-FEYAHBACK n' leave a' message!"
….alright. Even if you could pronounce that correctly its still too many numbers. But, giving you the benefit of the doubt ( and believe me, having to do so even as a courtesy pains me greatly ) and say you dialed the whole thing anyhow…….that still apparently routes to some company named IntelliSystems. So, yeah, by all means feel free to call them and demand they send you your cell phone receipt.
Conjecture
( Lawyer's office )
Attempted Murder? Bravo. I usually only get DUI idiots that aren't sober enough to realize they aren't sober and deny the charges. You, ma'am ( Yes, that’s right, ma'am ) are a rare bird. Sadly I had to restrain myself from milking the arresting officer for details. Thus I did not get to overhear what complex alcohol driven plot you had devised. Thus I must rely on conjecture and circumstance.
If it pleases the court I shall attempt to recreate the events of the nigh of November 2nd:
At approximately 2:43am the defendant placed an order, by phone, to the local Pizza Hut for two large Meat Lover's pizzas. The defendant had ordered such pizzas on previous occasions and had been disappointed with the volume of meat provided. Thus the defendant was already in a state of agitation as she awaited the delivery. Evidence suggests she had been drinking and may have been watching Dog the Bounty Hunter.
At 3:13am the victim, a Pizza Hut delivery boy, arrived at the trailer park to delivery the defendant's pizza. After passing the pizza over to the defendant she conducted a quick inspection of the pizza and found that the volume of Canadian back bacon was not to her satisfaction. Already agitated from previous orders she flew into a murderous pork driven rage.
The victim took a step back from the defendant's sudden aura of porklust and it was in this moment that the defendant saw her chance to strike. Seizing the bottom of her ketchup stained IHOP t-shirt she peeled it skyward to unleash a shuddering flesh cascade of inbred pork fed she-jubblies. The victim, having been caught in full view, recoiled in horror and was temporarily stunned.
The defendant took this opportunity to call for her brother Darryl and her other brother Darryl. The pair of flannel clad siblings burst forth from behind a nearby 1986 Datson up on blocks with a dog chained to the front bumper and began to assault the victim. Staggering from the assault, the victim attempted to flee back to his novelty painted pizza delivery vehicle. However by this point the defendant had also managed to catch up to the victim.
Armed with a NASCAR commemorative plate of Richard Petty, the defendant set upon the victim. Her first ill aimed blow actually missed the victim and shattered the plate upon his Pizza Hut delivery vehicle. Weaponless, the defendant seized one of the broken shards, the one that bore only Richard Petty's mustache on it, and attempted to stab the victim repeatedly with her newly improvised stache dagger.
The victim fled around to the driver side of the vehicle and likely would not be alive today if not for the ill placed engine block in the front year that stalled the defendant's ability to pursue. The victim was able to escape in his Pizza Hut delivery vehicle while the 3 siblings jeered him with various swine noises.
That, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, is what transpired that night and why you must see justice served and find the defendent guilty.
I rest my case. <nod>
Irrational Requests.
Me: "Good evening, <company>"
SC: "Is dis the line for the….the…uh…the Johnny Cash thing?"
Me: "Pardon? No, this is <company>. You have the wrong number."
SC: "This ain't the line…for the..uh…Johnny Cash savings thing? The ad I jus' saw on tv…."
Me: "No, you have the wrong number."
SC: "The wrong number?"
Me: "Yes."
SC: "Oh…uh….do you know the right number?"
Me: "….no"
SC: "Oh…uh…okay. I'll jus hafta keep watchin' n' see if it comes on again."
Me: "…that would probably be your best option, yes."
So you somehow think that I know the number to the TV ad which you can't quite remember clearly, aren't entirely sure what is about and did not even record the phone number correctly during? We've left the realm of common sense and leap straight into the realm of Biblical miracle. While it's true I have been labeled the messiah on more then one occasion I can assure you I have no such power and if I actually did have such power you never would have been able to make this call as the second you touched the phone you would have been set upon by locusts.
Math
Me: "The office opens at 7am pacific time on Monday."
SC: "Oh, ok, what time is it there now?"
Me: "It's 6am atm."
SC: "Ok, so its 8am here right now.."
Me: "So a 2 hour time difference then."
SC: "So what time do I have to call?"
Me: "….....9am?"
SC: "Oh, uh, ok."
Doesn't it bother you that people have trained dogs with better mathematical skills then you?
A Winner is You
Me: "Good evening, <company>"
SC: "Oh! I'm sorry! I was just trying to dial out."
Well, you succeeded. You go girl.
867
Me: "It should take about two weeks to arrive."
SC: "Oh…uh….can they um, hold onto it for a while?"
Me: "The post office only holds it for so long until they send it back."
SC: "Uh…can you do somethin' about it n' get em to hold it fer a while till I get the money?"
Ok, let me pose a question back to you: Why the hell are you ordering it when you can't afford it and you KNOW you can't afford it? You've obviously evolved to the point where you're able to ascertain that the amount of shinnies you have is not sufficient to purchase the amount of pants you irrationally lust for. However, it doesn't seem like you've yet to figure out how to confront this dilemma. Sadly, there is little we can do to help you at this point. All we can do is release back you into the wild to the rest of your pack and hope that at some point the constant unrestrained inbreeding flukes out and causes at least one of you to spontaneously mutate and develop fiscal responsibility.
While its true the gene would immediately be bred right back into a gene pool already so shallow I could wade across it without getting my toenails wet…at least whatever offspring spawn from the unholy union will have enough sense to figure out that they need to aspire to something higher then gas station attendant if they want to be ordering $500 worth of pants every other week.
Repeat after me....
Despite your complete screaming 4 year old like temper tantrum and attempt to avoid taking any responsibility for your own stupidity you were unable to change the fact you were stupid enough to jam your bank card into the bill acceptor slot of the machine. So far into it that you can't even see it. You can yell, curse, swear and rail at me all you want but its not my fault you're an idiot. It's also not my fault that you managed to accomplish this stunning feat of intelligence an hour before you have to board a plane and return to your home state which, according to you, is "40,000 miles" away. A rather impressive figure I might add considering the distance around the Earth itself even at its widest point is only 24,901 miles. Meaning you must circle the Earth almost two times to return to whatever magical Narnia like lost continent that you apparently live on.
Its also not my fault that you have $9000 in that account ( A number which grew to $10,000 and finally $50,000 the longer you threw your little tantrum. I wish I could make money as fast you apparently do. ) that you won't be able to access until we can arrange to mail the card back to you. I'm assuming you've never heard of a "bank" despite the fact you somehow managed to obtain a "bank card" from one. Which implies you entered one at some point in your life. If you'll just think back to that hazy, distant time in your life you might figure out you could merely, get this, go to your bank and make a withdrawal. Crazy, I know.
A lack of intelligence on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.
I'm glad I don't work there.
This is the actual recording that plays while you're on hold to the 911 call center. With a funky trance techno kind of beat behind it no less.
"Please use 911 responsible. 911 cannot provide the magnitude of earth quakes, the reason why the power is out or what the current time is after Daylight savings time."
You know that’s only there because enough idiots call about it to make it a problem too. Also…who the hell calls 911 to ask about the magnitude of earth quakes or why the power is out? Bah, nevermind I know the answer.
I Am the Lighthouse of Hope
Me: "Alright, I'll page a tech and have him call you back then."
SC: "…so I hang up?"
Me: "…yes."
Normally I wouldn't interrupt you as you fail miserably at trying to steer the good ship Duh into port of Common Sense thus running it a ground in a wildlife reserve full of baby seals before slowly sliding back into the water like a wounded whale only to slowly beneath the waves of despair…..BUT, seeing as you're threatening to drag me down with you in the undertow I'll guide you into port. Just this once.
867
Blowing $500 on MP3 player sunglasses seems tragically unwise when you don't even know what an MP3 is. I highly doubt you even have the computer required to make use of such of device. In fact I'm willing to bet the biggest technological advancement in your home from the over the last 10 years was figuring out you could still change the TV channel with a pair of plyers after the knob fell off.
gah, days off.....finally.
Holy crap on a stick! I hope the driver gets compensated for what he went through, and the pizza place sics the cops on them! There is no call whatsoever for them to attack the delivery person! 
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