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Wherein Stupidy Almost Claims a Life
So close! I was so close!
Ancient Chinese Secret
Me: “and the name of the store?”
SC: “The Barking Fist”
Me: “….pardon?”
Isn’t that suppose to be prefixed with “The Way Of”?
Be A Dear and Summon a Whambulance, Would You?
Me: "Alright, you're reservation's booked. Let me give you the number to the hotel-"
SC: “What? I have to call them?!”
Me: “Yes, you’ll have to call them to confirm your reservation, pay for the room and to ask for a shuttle pick up.”
SC: “WHAT!? How long will that take?!”
Judging by the length and persistence of your whining combined with your inability to take even the faintest amount of personal responsibility I’m going to make a rough estimate of 2-3 hours. Not that I think you’ll actually un-wad your panties and act like a grown up, but rather that it will take that long for you to locate and whine enough to convince an airline rep to call for you. They may ignore you at first, but don’t let that deter you. If you whine at them long enough for your tears to actually soak through at least one layer of clothing they should give in and help wipe your proverbial butt for you.
The only possible silver lining to this whole situation is there’s a small chance you’ll be shot by an air marshal at some point in the future after you try to break into the cockpit cabin to ask the pilot “Are we there yet?!”.
It’s these little glimmers of hope that I cling too to keep me going.
Sometimes Things Happen for a Reason
So, let me see if I have this right. You came down to the basement and saw that one of the washers had been unplugged because it was out of order. So you assumed it had been unplugged because it’s welfare day and for some reason that’s the explanation for anything that goes wrong over the course of the day. Because if it wasn’t welfare day people on welfare would just stay inside. Since, you know, the sun burns their flesh if they aren’t carrying at least $10 on them. Sort of like the Unemployed of the Dead. But when Welfare Day rolls around they crawl out of their suites, nooks, crannies and crypts to bring misery and mischief to the laundry rooms, public washrooms and broom closets of the world.
But anyway…where was I? Oh right, so you came down and found it had been unplugged because it was out of order. But you denied this possibility because welfare day is like opposite day or something so if it’s out of order then it’s really perfectly operational. So, you plugged it back in, threw in a load of wash and now its flooded the entire laundry room. Because, surprise surprise, it really was out of order. Go you.
Yeehaw. Or something.
Me: “Ok, and your name please?”
SC: “Zouomia.”
Me: “Is that the first name or the last name?”
SC: “That’s the middle name.”
Once again I find myself in a situation where I should have been more specific. See the key to Twit Wrangling is to cut off as many routes of escape as you can. Any possibility you leave open may be taken. By merely asking “what is your name please?” I foolishly left myself open to several possibilities. He could have answered with his first name, last name, middle name or the name of his level 57 Night Elf Hunter ( “Gilidianshadowwalker Nightstarbow” ) for example. All 4 would have technically been correct and it would be my fault for not having cut off those angles of approach in this halfwit rodeo I engage in with at least 50% of our nocturnal callers.
I suppose this makes me some sort of CSR Cowboy. Well, hot damn.
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
Wow. Despite the length of your ranting I’m still not entirely sure what the heck it is you wanted or why you were calling. As the confusion began to mount I quickly began to jot down notes of the insane tapestry which was your raging in the hopes I could pour over them later and maybe piece together some semblance of a coherent thought. However, now that I examine them I’m still not 100% what’s going on. These were the only points I was able to catch:
1) You were being taken advantage of. You never precisely specified by whom or what.
2) Someone was slipping inappropriate and “illegal” notes under your door. This person is unidentified and uncatchable. Possibly a leprechaun.
3) You did not ruin that woman’s microwave. You didn’t specify who “that woman” is or what exactly happened to lead to the destruction of her appliance. She may or may not have been a leprechaun.
4) Your carpets. Something is wrong with them. I don’t know what. You don’t know what. Just that they’re wrong.
5) You’re speaking up for yourself. Because no one else will. You have to speak up for yourself. Help, you’re being repressed.
6) People have been entering your suite illegal. You have not seen them. But they have been there. I guess they have wronged your carpet somehow. Your carpet’s virtue has been soiled whilst you were away. It weeps.
7) You’re “just getting your words in” despite how many times I explained you’re not talking to the right person and your words would be to no avail and would be for naught. As I am not passing a shred of your diatribe on to our client.
8) The building manager ignores you. Also he doesn’t exist and/or he’s been in Alberta for a year or something.
9) You demand compensation.
10) You actually received compensation. But it’s insufficient. You demand more compensation.
11) PANCAKES.
Actually, come to think of I’m pretty sure this is the plot of CSI Miami this week.
Thanks, dick.
SC: “What time is it there?”
Me: “It’s about quarter to 7.”
SC: “Wow! Good luck with that.”
….what? What exactly do you think time zones are? It really is quarter to 7 here. It’s not that I’m stuck in some sort of time vacuum, forever trapped in the past and cut off from direct interaction with the rest of the world. Despite what you may think, Toronto is not the center of the universe and your telephone can’t actually dial through time as we know it.
<sob>
As I was making my nightly 7/11 purchase, which includes one bottle of Aquafina vitamin water to keep me alive, I had this exchange with the guy behind me in line:
Guy: “Hey is that the Aquafina vitamin water?”
Me: “Yes.”
( I turn the bottle around to show him the label. )
Guy: “Oh. Well do you know a store where I can get the Aquafina vitamin water?”
Me: “…..this is the Aquafina vitamin water.”
( I hold the bottle up and point directly to “Vitamin Enhanced Water” on the label. )
Guy: “…..so, no idea?”
Guy #2: “Maybe try like a health food store?”
Me: “…….”
Normally when I have conversations this stupid I’m wearing a headset. Thank you for showing me they can happen in daily life as well. I really appreciate it.
867
See if you can follow this idiocy:
Me: “Ok, and what size would you like?”
SC: “Uh, 7-1/8.”
Me: “7-1/8?”
SC: “Um…7-5/8.”
Me: “..Ok, so 7-5/8?”
SC: “No, uh, 7-1/8 and-..uh
Me: “Ok, do you mean you want one of each?
SC: “No..”
Me: “Ok-“
SC: “Yeah……uh, no….one.”
Me: “…..ok so you just want one then?”
SC: “Yeah.”
Me: “One 7-1/8?”
SC: “Uh…wait..no. Two.”
Me: “Ok, so you want two 7-1/8 or?”
SC: “Uh…..7-1/8 and 7-5/8”
Me: “Ok, so you want one of each?”
SC: “Yeah”
NUMBARZ R HARD
15 minutes later she calls back….which means 15 minutes is her mental turn around time until she went "Uh...hey....wait a sec...."
SC: “Uh, I jus called. I want one more hat.”
Me: “Ok, what’s your name please?”
SC: “Huh? It’s Dumbass!! I just called!”
Me: “Ok, and what would you like to add?”
SC: “One more hat, uh….7-1/8.”
Me: “Ok, so you want two 7-1/8s?”
SC: “Um…I want three hats. But one is different.”
Me: “….ok so you want two 7-1/8s and one 7-5/8ths, right?”
SC: “Uhhh…yeah.”
Yeah, one is different alright. The kind of different that usually get eaten by its mother in the wild before it can breed.
Talking To Americans
Me: “Ok, and your last name please?”
SC: “Berez. B-e-r-e-zee”
Me: “B-e-r-e-zed?”
SC: “No, B-e-r-e-ZEE. ZEE! as in ZEBRA!!”
Shit! They’re onto us! HIDE THE WOMEN AND THE MAPLE SYRUP.
I Care Not
SC: “Is Dave there?”
Me: “I think you have the wrong number, sorry.”
SC: “Oh, whose this?”
Me: “This is <company>’s emergency line”
SC: “Oh! I was trying to reach Dave on his cell, sorry. The number was xxx-xxx-xxxx.”
Me: "…ok?”
Why are you telling me? I don’t care what the right number was or that it was a cell phone. This information is utterly irrelevant to me. Did you want me call him for you? I could you know, actually, I think I will. Dave deserve a heads up as to how much of a doorknob you are. I need to warn him swiftly. It may be Dave’s only hope.
867
Me: “and your last name please?”
SC: “Grqakuqi”
Ok you’re going to have to run that by me again. Because I swear that was the precise sound my cat made this morning when she was purging her digestive sub-systems onto the carpet in my hallway.
WHY DO YOU TEMPT ME LORD?!
( This guy was at an airport in the States )
Me: “Ok, do you have a pen there?”
SC: “Sure, ju-“
( At this point this blaring alarm goes off in the background and I overhear the following announcement: )
Voice: “WARNING! You have entered a secured area. Leave the area immediately or you will be shot!”
SC: “...um.....hang on a sec.”
Me: "Can do!"
And for one glorious moment I was presented with a situation where I could actually have a caller shot.
867
Ok, 3 of you have called me now. All from the same town, with the same last name, from the same phone number, yet you’ve all placed separate orders. Let me give you a little tip. I’m going to show you how you can save hundreds and you don’t even have to switch to Geico.
First, flip through the book with the pretty pictures and pick out everything that tingles your special no no place. Be sure to take turns. Oh, and no hair pulling.
Second, make a list of all the things you picked. As always, crayon is fine.
Third, call me. ( If you must ). Tell me everything on the list. I will make one big order for you and you only have to pay the $40 shipping charge once.
Fourth, divide $40 by 3 to see how much you each have to chip in for shippi-….oh. Wait. Ok, nevermind. I think I see why you all called separately now.
Math is scary, isn’t it?
Go Right Ahead
( This company is closed till Monday. )
SC: “If I don’t get a call back in an hour I’m calling again! I’ll call every hour until I do!”
Then you and me are going to get rather deeply acquainted this evening, I’m afraid. Be forewarned, I am a bit of a biter. <wink wink>
No. You Go Way Now.
Me: “Good evening, <company>”
SC: “What?”
Me: “<company>”
SC: “Is this really <company>?”
Me: “Yes.”
SC: “This isn’t a cab?”
Me: “No.”
Nah, I’m just messing with you. I can in fact dispatch a cab. Any cab. Actually, every cab in this city is at my very fingertips and is mine and mine alone to command. I am the very God of all that is taxi cab. This is why I screw with you. Because when you’re god you can do things like that. So if you want a cab, by all means, just ask me where to send it. Oh, but quack like a duck first. No questions, just do it. Then perhaps I shall consider your request.
867
Me: “Unfortunately I only have that item in Small and XL”
SC: “Oh, do you have it in medium?”
Me: “No…”
Argh, you people are such….such….argh….such…..I don’t know. Cheese baboons. There you go. You are a primate with a multi-coloured ass that has an inexplicable lust for curdled dairy products. Edam, gouda, mozzarella, swiss, you name it. If it’s cheese and you find it then it’s going right up between your Crayola ass cheeks in some sort of weird festive dance ritual for the duration of the weekend. Then come Sunday you pick up the phone and call me while spreading your ass cheeks apart like some sort of hairy rainbow cheese sandwich.
Yes, I can take even the most silly, innocuous term and turn it into a horrible horrible mental image.
867
( 3am...customer service isn't in till 8am which is clearly stated. )
SC: “Ya, did you guys send ma order yet!?”
I hope something crawls into your house latches onto your face with its teeth and / or penis then you run around the room screaming and punching yourself in the head trying to get it off while it makes mad passionately love to your right nostril only to end up dropping your cigarette on the carpet by the drapes which slowly smolders into a tiny fire that catches onto the drapes and roars into the ceiling of your trailer home and begins to consume your abode in a raging fiery inferno which surrounds you and cuts off all exits of escape while you’re too busy trying to peel the rabidly horny creature off your face and out of your mouth to notice and by the time you finally do after beating it and yourself profusely with a sticky rolled up Penthouse magazine it’s too late you’re already surrounded by flames and the only way to escape is to dive through them, hopefully through a window that’s at least double pane glass so that it may shatter and cause severe bonus damage after which you will run away in the snow, turn around and watch everything you own slowly burn to the ground and oh did I mention you’re not wearing any pants and its -25C out with the wind chill factor.
The Aristocrats.
Thus, I rest. -.-
Ancient Chinese Secret
Me: “and the name of the store?”
SC: “The Barking Fist”
Me: “….pardon?”
Isn’t that suppose to be prefixed with “The Way Of”?
Be A Dear and Summon a Whambulance, Would You?
Me: "Alright, you're reservation's booked. Let me give you the number to the hotel-"
SC: “What? I have to call them?!”
Me: “Yes, you’ll have to call them to confirm your reservation, pay for the room and to ask for a shuttle pick up.”
SC: “WHAT!? How long will that take?!”
Judging by the length and persistence of your whining combined with your inability to take even the faintest amount of personal responsibility I’m going to make a rough estimate of 2-3 hours. Not that I think you’ll actually un-wad your panties and act like a grown up, but rather that it will take that long for you to locate and whine enough to convince an airline rep to call for you. They may ignore you at first, but don’t let that deter you. If you whine at them long enough for your tears to actually soak through at least one layer of clothing they should give in and help wipe your proverbial butt for you.
The only possible silver lining to this whole situation is there’s a small chance you’ll be shot by an air marshal at some point in the future after you try to break into the cockpit cabin to ask the pilot “Are we there yet?!”.
It’s these little glimmers of hope that I cling too to keep me going.
Sometimes Things Happen for a Reason
So, let me see if I have this right. You came down to the basement and saw that one of the washers had been unplugged because it was out of order. So you assumed it had been unplugged because it’s welfare day and for some reason that’s the explanation for anything that goes wrong over the course of the day. Because if it wasn’t welfare day people on welfare would just stay inside. Since, you know, the sun burns their flesh if they aren’t carrying at least $10 on them. Sort of like the Unemployed of the Dead. But when Welfare Day rolls around they crawl out of their suites, nooks, crannies and crypts to bring misery and mischief to the laundry rooms, public washrooms and broom closets of the world.
But anyway…where was I? Oh right, so you came down and found it had been unplugged because it was out of order. But you denied this possibility because welfare day is like opposite day or something so if it’s out of order then it’s really perfectly operational. So, you plugged it back in, threw in a load of wash and now its flooded the entire laundry room. Because, surprise surprise, it really was out of order. Go you.
Yeehaw. Or something.
Me: “Ok, and your name please?”
SC: “Zouomia.”
Me: “Is that the first name or the last name?”
SC: “That’s the middle name.”
Once again I find myself in a situation where I should have been more specific. See the key to Twit Wrangling is to cut off as many routes of escape as you can. Any possibility you leave open may be taken. By merely asking “what is your name please?” I foolishly left myself open to several possibilities. He could have answered with his first name, last name, middle name or the name of his level 57 Night Elf Hunter ( “Gilidianshadowwalker Nightstarbow” ) for example. All 4 would have technically been correct and it would be my fault for not having cut off those angles of approach in this halfwit rodeo I engage in with at least 50% of our nocturnal callers.
I suppose this makes me some sort of CSR Cowboy. Well, hot damn.
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
Wow. Despite the length of your ranting I’m still not entirely sure what the heck it is you wanted or why you were calling. As the confusion began to mount I quickly began to jot down notes of the insane tapestry which was your raging in the hopes I could pour over them later and maybe piece together some semblance of a coherent thought. However, now that I examine them I’m still not 100% what’s going on. These were the only points I was able to catch:
1) You were being taken advantage of. You never precisely specified by whom or what.
2) Someone was slipping inappropriate and “illegal” notes under your door. This person is unidentified and uncatchable. Possibly a leprechaun.
3) You did not ruin that woman’s microwave. You didn’t specify who “that woman” is or what exactly happened to lead to the destruction of her appliance. She may or may not have been a leprechaun.
4) Your carpets. Something is wrong with them. I don’t know what. You don’t know what. Just that they’re wrong.
5) You’re speaking up for yourself. Because no one else will. You have to speak up for yourself. Help, you’re being repressed.
6) People have been entering your suite illegal. You have not seen them. But they have been there. I guess they have wronged your carpet somehow. Your carpet’s virtue has been soiled whilst you were away. It weeps.
7) You’re “just getting your words in” despite how many times I explained you’re not talking to the right person and your words would be to no avail and would be for naught. As I am not passing a shred of your diatribe on to our client.
8) The building manager ignores you. Also he doesn’t exist and/or he’s been in Alberta for a year or something.
9) You demand compensation.
10) You actually received compensation. But it’s insufficient. You demand more compensation.
11) PANCAKES.
Actually, come to think of I’m pretty sure this is the plot of CSI Miami this week.
Thanks, dick.
SC: “What time is it there?”
Me: “It’s about quarter to 7.”
SC: “Wow! Good luck with that.”
….what? What exactly do you think time zones are? It really is quarter to 7 here. It’s not that I’m stuck in some sort of time vacuum, forever trapped in the past and cut off from direct interaction with the rest of the world. Despite what you may think, Toronto is not the center of the universe and your telephone can’t actually dial through time as we know it.
<sob>
As I was making my nightly 7/11 purchase, which includes one bottle of Aquafina vitamin water to keep me alive, I had this exchange with the guy behind me in line:
Guy: “Hey is that the Aquafina vitamin water?”
Me: “Yes.”
( I turn the bottle around to show him the label. )
Guy: “Oh. Well do you know a store where I can get the Aquafina vitamin water?”
Me: “…..this is the Aquafina vitamin water.”
( I hold the bottle up and point directly to “Vitamin Enhanced Water” on the label. )
Guy: “…..so, no idea?”
Guy #2: “Maybe try like a health food store?”
Me: “…….”
Normally when I have conversations this stupid I’m wearing a headset. Thank you for showing me they can happen in daily life as well. I really appreciate it.
867
See if you can follow this idiocy:
Me: “Ok, and what size would you like?”
SC: “Uh, 7-1/8.”
Me: “7-1/8?”
SC: “Um…7-5/8.”
Me: “..Ok, so 7-5/8?”
SC: “No, uh, 7-1/8 and-..uh
Me: “Ok, do you mean you want one of each?
SC: “No..”
Me: “Ok-“
SC: “Yeah……uh, no….one.”
Me: “…..ok so you just want one then?”
SC: “Yeah.”
Me: “One 7-1/8?”
SC: “Uh…wait..no. Two.”
Me: “Ok, so you want two 7-1/8 or?”
SC: “Uh…..7-1/8 and 7-5/8”
Me: “Ok, so you want one of each?”
SC: “Yeah”
NUMBARZ R HARD
15 minutes later she calls back….which means 15 minutes is her mental turn around time until she went "Uh...hey....wait a sec...."
SC: “Uh, I jus called. I want one more hat.”
Me: “Ok, what’s your name please?”
SC: “Huh? It’s Dumbass!! I just called!”
Me: “Ok, and what would you like to add?”
SC: “One more hat, uh….7-1/8.”
Me: “Ok, so you want two 7-1/8s?”
SC: “Um…I want three hats. But one is different.”
Me: “….ok so you want two 7-1/8s and one 7-5/8ths, right?”
SC: “Uhhh…yeah.”
Yeah, one is different alright. The kind of different that usually get eaten by its mother in the wild before it can breed.
Talking To Americans
Me: “Ok, and your last name please?”
SC: “Berez. B-e-r-e-zee”
Me: “B-e-r-e-zed?”
SC: “No, B-e-r-e-ZEE. ZEE! as in ZEBRA!!”
Shit! They’re onto us! HIDE THE WOMEN AND THE MAPLE SYRUP.
I Care Not
SC: “Is Dave there?”
Me: “I think you have the wrong number, sorry.”
SC: “Oh, whose this?”
Me: “This is <company>’s emergency line”
SC: “Oh! I was trying to reach Dave on his cell, sorry. The number was xxx-xxx-xxxx.”
Me: "…ok?”
Why are you telling me? I don’t care what the right number was or that it was a cell phone. This information is utterly irrelevant to me. Did you want me call him for you? I could you know, actually, I think I will. Dave deserve a heads up as to how much of a doorknob you are. I need to warn him swiftly. It may be Dave’s only hope.
867
Me: “and your last name please?”
SC: “Grqakuqi”
Ok you’re going to have to run that by me again. Because I swear that was the precise sound my cat made this morning when she was purging her digestive sub-systems onto the carpet in my hallway.
WHY DO YOU TEMPT ME LORD?!
( This guy was at an airport in the States )
Me: “Ok, do you have a pen there?”
SC: “Sure, ju-“
( At this point this blaring alarm goes off in the background and I overhear the following announcement: )
Voice: “WARNING! You have entered a secured area. Leave the area immediately or you will be shot!”
SC: “...um.....hang on a sec.”
Me: "Can do!"
And for one glorious moment I was presented with a situation where I could actually have a caller shot.
867
Ok, 3 of you have called me now. All from the same town, with the same last name, from the same phone number, yet you’ve all placed separate orders. Let me give you a little tip. I’m going to show you how you can save hundreds and you don’t even have to switch to Geico.
First, flip through the book with the pretty pictures and pick out everything that tingles your special no no place. Be sure to take turns. Oh, and no hair pulling.
Second, make a list of all the things you picked. As always, crayon is fine.
Third, call me. ( If you must ). Tell me everything on the list. I will make one big order for you and you only have to pay the $40 shipping charge once.
Fourth, divide $40 by 3 to see how much you each have to chip in for shippi-….oh. Wait. Ok, nevermind. I think I see why you all called separately now.
Math is scary, isn’t it?
Go Right Ahead
( This company is closed till Monday. )
SC: “If I don’t get a call back in an hour I’m calling again! I’ll call every hour until I do!”
Then you and me are going to get rather deeply acquainted this evening, I’m afraid. Be forewarned, I am a bit of a biter. <wink wink>
No. You Go Way Now.
Me: “Good evening, <company>”
SC: “What?”
Me: “<company>”
SC: “Is this really <company>?”
Me: “Yes.”
SC: “This isn’t a cab?”
Me: “No.”
Nah, I’m just messing with you. I can in fact dispatch a cab. Any cab. Actually, every cab in this city is at my very fingertips and is mine and mine alone to command. I am the very God of all that is taxi cab. This is why I screw with you. Because when you’re god you can do things like that. So if you want a cab, by all means, just ask me where to send it. Oh, but quack like a duck first. No questions, just do it. Then perhaps I shall consider your request.
867
Me: “Unfortunately I only have that item in Small and XL”
SC: “Oh, do you have it in medium?”
Me: “No…”
Argh, you people are such….such….argh….such…..I don’t know. Cheese baboons. There you go. You are a primate with a multi-coloured ass that has an inexplicable lust for curdled dairy products. Edam, gouda, mozzarella, swiss, you name it. If it’s cheese and you find it then it’s going right up between your Crayola ass cheeks in some sort of weird festive dance ritual for the duration of the weekend. Then come Sunday you pick up the phone and call me while spreading your ass cheeks apart like some sort of hairy rainbow cheese sandwich.
Yes, I can take even the most silly, innocuous term and turn it into a horrible horrible mental image.
867
( 3am...customer service isn't in till 8am which is clearly stated. )
SC: “Ya, did you guys send ma order yet!?”
I hope something crawls into your house latches onto your face with its teeth and / or penis then you run around the room screaming and punching yourself in the head trying to get it off while it makes mad passionately love to your right nostril only to end up dropping your cigarette on the carpet by the drapes which slowly smolders into a tiny fire that catches onto the drapes and roars into the ceiling of your trailer home and begins to consume your abode in a raging fiery inferno which surrounds you and cuts off all exits of escape while you’re too busy trying to peel the rabidly horny creature off your face and out of your mouth to notice and by the time you finally do after beating it and yourself profusely with a sticky rolled up Penthouse magazine it’s too late you’re already surrounded by flames and the only way to escape is to dive through them, hopefully through a window that’s at least double pane glass so that it may shatter and cause severe bonus damage after which you will run away in the snow, turn around and watch everything you own slowly burn to the ground and oh did I mention you’re not wearing any pants and its -25C out with the wind chill factor.
The Aristocrats.
Thus, I rest. -.-
Thanks.
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