Big Game Hunter
Once more into the breach.
Me: “And the VISA number please?”
SC: “Oh, do you need all the numbers?”
Nah, 4 is perfect. It's just enough to wet my appetite. Make the chase worthwhile. After all, extracting caller information is like hunting the greatest of wild beasts to us operators. We are champions of the information jungle and we would seek test ourselves against the mighty creatures within its darkened canopy. Oh, it starts with but the faintest of tracks. Little signs of the beasts passing. Distant sounds of its distinctive calls. Confused bleats of “Huh?”, “Eh?” and “Ayuk, I’d like the winning ticket, please!”. We follow these distance sounds, read the traces of its passing. We seek its lair till finally we confront it! What follows is minute after tense minute of hunting, stalking, prowling. Man vs Beast. A battle of wills and wits that could go on for upwards of 4 whole minutes on some calls.
Then BAM! It’s over, and we hold your VISA number triumphantly over your motionless carcass. Then we stuff it and hang it over the mantel piece as a horribly tacky conversation piece because we mistakenly think chicks dig that kind of thing.
SC: “Thank you very much for your lack of help, bye! <click>”
Oh, no no. You flatter me. It is I who must thank you for blaming absolutely everything that has gone wrong on your trip from the weather to be stuck on the tarmac for 6 hours to losing $400 on your rental car on me personally. I mean there’s no way I could possibly have pulled that all off and for you to give me all the credit is just too much. You think far, far too highly of me. I am humbled by how high you hold me in esteem. But I simply cannot in good faith take credit for all of this. Surely you put in some effort yourself. I mean, someone had to be completely incised with the a hotel rate of a mere $40. Someone had to plan an entire vacation without a single back up plan should an inevitable delay occur at an airport. Someone had to desperately try and shift all of the blame entirely onto people who aren’t even remotely involved with the airlines or whatever Bond level super villain is leveling his weather control device against you personally.
Give yourself some credit here.
SC: “I’m surprised you’re there!”
Notice how regardless of how many times someone makes this ridiculous statement each month, it just never seems to stop them from trying to call anyway? No offense there dude, but it’s 4am and you’re buying lottery tickets. There is nowhere on this Earth where that is considered normal in any regard. Even the clerks at 7/11 would look at you odd if you showed up at this time in the morning for lottery tickets. And it takes quite a bit to faze them. These are the people that wouldn’t even bat an eyelash if you mounted the Slurpee machine and started dry humping the Sour Rasberry nozzle. They’d just tell you to leave, give the machine a quick shot of Febreeze and go back to their day.
And no, I'm not making that up ( There's a reason I stopped going to 7/11 -.- ).
SC: “I figured out the book of Revelations”
Oh good, I was just sitting here wondering about that very topic. So what did you figure out this time? Because honestly, I think this is the 8th or 9th time you’ve figured out the book of Revelations so far. Do you keep losing your research notes? Or are you continuing to mine as yet undiscovered nuggets of wisdom from deep within its pages?
SC: “I think the Anti-Christ is responsible for all the missing women and children.”
Oh wait, wait. Don’t tell me. I think I know who he is. Let me guess. I know this one! Prince Charles, right?
SC: “and I think Prince Charles is the leader of the Anti-Christ.”
Damn! I was close. So Prince Charles is the leader of the Anti-Christ now rather then the Anti-Christ himself? So he’s actually been promoted to a position above the Anti-Christ. Impressive.
You know, I hate to turn the garden hose of reason on your drug fueled brain parade here, but you seem really obsessed with Prince Charles. To the point of constantly awarding him super-villain status. You’re laboring under the impression that he is some sort of criminal mastermind/terrifying super-murderer/font of all evil that walks this Earth. Capable of manipulating the very political fabric of the world to his whims and eluding notice of every police and military organization on the planet.
So I just have one question for you: Have you ever looked at Prince Charles? I mean really looked at him? The man doesn’t look like he could solve the Sunday Word Jumble on the Funnies page. This is not a bastion of intellect we’re dealing with here. The man married a horse for crying out loud. Do you seriously think he’s capable of orchestrating anything more complex then a game of Yahtzee?
If you really must continue this hunt for some sort of perceived super villain capable of swaying the public with their power, making people simply vanish and holding the reins to a vast evil empire, perhaps you should turn your eyes on a more believable suspect. Like Oprah.
A Bad Sign
Me: “And the VISA number?”
SC: “Oh, yes! It’s xxx-xxx-xxxx.”
SC: “Oh wait, that’s my phone number, isn’t it?”
Yes, yes it is. Not to dissuade you or anything, but you do realize if you do win one of the big prizes they’ll likely be a skill testing question which will require you to execute basic math, right? I mean I’d hate for you to win a house, then fail the skill testing question. Well….ok granted I would laugh. Probably for several minutes. But I would feel bad afterwards. For a minute or two at least. Then I’d probably have another fit of the giggles.
SC: “It just filled with water and didn’t do anything. So I took all my soaked stuff out of washer #1 and put them in #2. Then #1 filled with more water so I thought maybe it was working now so I put it all back into #1. But it wasn’t working."
Just so I have this straight: Washer #1 doesn’t work. So you put everything in Washer #2. Then, not content with having only one failure in your daily life, you put everything back into Washer #1 until the impression that perhaps magic had occurred. Does that sound about right? Or did you think Washer #1 was just being a jerk and maybe it would come back to you if you made it jealous by going to Washer #2? Only to have your heart cruelly broken a second time?
SC: “What time is the clinic open?”
Me: “It will be open at 8am.”
SC: “Oh, 8am? Can I come at 7?”
You’re perfectly welcome to. However, the only medical assistance they provide at that hour is “Cold buttock parking lot asphalt therapy”.
SC: “You know I’ve been dead 7 times”
Do us a favour and make it 8.
SC: “And I saw Jesus.”
Right, if I might interject. You seem like a serious man ( in your own little world ) who wants to be taken seriously ( Desperately so, if your calls are any indication ). So allow me to offer you a piece of advice. “And I saw Jesus” is a statement that can completely invalidate the seriousness of any sentence. Once you have invoked visual Jesus, people will no longer listen to you and will assume you are off your gourd. It is an instantaneous warning flag of insanity, unless you happen to be wearing robes. In which case people will assume you are speaking metaphorically. But otherwise, no.
You really only have two ways you can go from here. You can either give up laying eyes upon the Lord, and reclaim at least some measure of exterior sanity. Or you can append “And I saw Jesus” to every sentence so people think you are attempting a running jest. In fact, you should totally go with that. At least then your calls would be vastly entertaining and any daily encounters with other people would leave them with an amusing story to tell their coworkers around the water cooler later that day. Think of it. You could spread smiles and cheer, rather then discomfort and a faint scent of cat pee.
You’d be a font of bemusement. It’d be like Comedy Tourette’s.
Stop. Think. Speak.
SC: “I know your website says Canada and the US only, but do you ship to Spain?”
So, would you like me to point out you’re an idiot? Or would you rather take a few minutes to contemplate it and come to the conclusion yourself? It’s ok, I can wait. Far be it for me to stand in the way of one man’s journey towards enlightenment.
Me: “Alright, anything else?”
SC: “No, that’s all.”
Far be it for me to discourage your purchasing habits, but let me walk you through a little math adventure here. You have ordered a $15 hat. You are paying $40 to ship it to the edge of the world. $40 is a flat rate. Does nothing about that strike you as wrong? Maybe the fact that oh, I don’t know, the shipping costs over twice as much as the item does? Are you sure you don’t want to toss in another hat or some pants or something to make this a bit more worthwhile? I realize math, and indeed education in general, may not be so wide spread that far north but please put in a little effort here.
I know that math sounds like some sort of strange, heretical voodoo and you may be quite resistant to its teachings. In fact they may even be sending some sort of math missionaries into your village at regular intervals. Waking you up at 8am on a Sunday morning by knocking on your door and asking “Have you found PI?”. But you need to stop slamming the door in their face. Let them in. Let them teach you the wonders of basic arithmetic so that you do not make this mistake again in the future.
It may sound complicated. It may be hard. But they can bring pictures if you want. Even props and crayons. You like crayons, don’t you? Of course you do. Everyone likes crayons.
Me: “And your phone number please?”
SC: “I don’t have a phone but you can call me at xxx-xxx-xxxx”
So was that “I don’t have a phone but here’s my phone number” or “I don’t have a phone but here’s the phone number of the people whose cabin I break into every winter when they’re not in town so I can eat all their food and masturbate myself with their Snuggie”?
Me: “Do you have a customer ID number?”
SC: “Hmm…now let me think.”
I’d really rather not, you’ll set off the smoke alarm.
Oh, really now?
SC: “I don’t want to talk anymore because you can’t help me!”
That’s a rather curious statement. I believe I’ve been informing you that I cannot help you for the past 5 minutes and 10 seconds. Yet it certainly did nothing to stop your want of talking. I was actually beginning to wonder if anything would stop your want of talking. However, I certainly didn’t expect a sudden onset of reason to be the solution. I was leaning more towards “duct tape” or “soldering iron”.
SC: "THE ANTI-CHRIST IS ON OUR MONEYZ"
Ok, seriously. You need a hobby.