How I loathe you.
This week they book a group of foreigners with us. Only one spoke English, and he was never around. Seriously? One foreigner is bad enough but a whole group of them??
Thankfully, most of them minded their own beeswax but a few were special.
Special #1: You...help...Internetz?
He was shoving a laptop at me. Oh. Ok, Internet connection. I'm not an IT but I might as well be because of all the Internet question I get. I'll give it a shot. Hopefully, it's a Windows because I only have one Apple product at home, all the rest are Windows so I have very little experience with Macs...
Shit. It's a Mac. Sigh.
So I poke and try around, looking for his browser. Finally I find it, and a bunch of weird letters come flying out. It's not only a Mac, it's in Saudi Arabian (or where they came from.) How the frack am I supposed to connect this laptop when I can't READ it!
Me: *facedesk* I can't read this. I can't connect you.
Special #1: *insistingly* You help! You help! YOU! Heeeelp!
It took a long time to shoo him away.
Special # 2: *on phone* I need. Speak. to [name]
Me: Huh?
Special #2: He should be there in lobby.
Me: Sir. THere's about a hundred people in the lobby. You can't expect me to ask everyone of them if he's [name].
Special # 2: Hes group.
Me: All of them are with the group.
Special #2: Ask. Ask!
So I get my manager to ask. It took a while but finally he came to speak to Special # 2. Geez. My forehead is bruised.
Unrelated story: Late night a bunch of loud people came storming in. They went straightt to the elevator and punch the button. I'll call the SC DB for this, for Dumb Bimbo.
DB: Like, where is the Motherf**king elevator?! It's so slow!
Me: ...yep...
DB: I need the stairs! Where're the MotherF**king stairs!
Me: There're over there. *points*
DB: *Looks at me like I just told her run around outside naked* ....
Elevator: *doors open*
DB's friend: Come on DB, it's open.
DB: She said told me where the stairs were. Can you believe it? She told me WHERE THEY WERE!
Hey, if you ask, even rhetorically, I'll answer. Tis my job.
This week they book a group of foreigners with us. Only one spoke English, and he was never around. Seriously? One foreigner is bad enough but a whole group of them??
Thankfully, most of them minded their own beeswax but a few were special.
Special #1: You...help...Internetz?
He was shoving a laptop at me. Oh. Ok, Internet connection. I'm not an IT but I might as well be because of all the Internet question I get. I'll give it a shot. Hopefully, it's a Windows because I only have one Apple product at home, all the rest are Windows so I have very little experience with Macs...
Shit. It's a Mac. Sigh.
So I poke and try around, looking for his browser. Finally I find it, and a bunch of weird letters come flying out. It's not only a Mac, it's in Saudi Arabian (or where they came from.) How the frack am I supposed to connect this laptop when I can't READ it!
Me: *facedesk* I can't read this. I can't connect you.
Special #1: *insistingly* You help! You help! YOU! Heeeelp!
It took a long time to shoo him away.
Special # 2: *on phone* I need. Speak. to [name]
Me: Huh?
Special #2: He should be there in lobby.
Me: Sir. THere's about a hundred people in the lobby. You can't expect me to ask everyone of them if he's [name].
Special # 2: Hes group.
Me: All of them are with the group.
Special #2: Ask. Ask!
So I get my manager to ask. It took a while but finally he came to speak to Special # 2. Geez. My forehead is bruised.
Unrelated story: Late night a bunch of loud people came storming in. They went straightt to the elevator and punch the button. I'll call the SC DB for this, for Dumb Bimbo.
DB: Like, where is the Motherf**king elevator?! It's so slow!
Me: ...yep...
DB: I need the stairs! Where're the MotherF**king stairs!
Me: There're over there. *points*
DB: *Looks at me like I just told her run around outside naked* ....
Elevator: *doors open*
DB's friend: Come on DB, it's open.
DB: She said told me where the stairs were. Can you believe it? She told me WHERE THEY WERE!
Hey, if you ask, even rhetorically, I'll answer. Tis my job.
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