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Bitterness.
The Skytrain....
Without fail, every weekend, at some point I will be surrounded by what I can only refer to as the "Gene pool drowning victims" and they will engage in a dialog so painfully stupid that I just want to ask them if they seriously think thats conversation.
Case in point:
"Dude that ad has a piano falling on that guy!"
"Whoa, yeah. Its just like that song!"
"Huh? What song?"
"You know, Its Raining Pianos or something."
"By Sinatra right?"
"Yeah!"
<sigh>
Personal Trainer
SC: "I'm going to need a professional plumper."
….er, ok. Are we talking "I'm moving to Japan to set foot in the world of Sumo" plump or "6 months from now I want the paramedics to have to cut a hole out of my wall to remove me from the living room live on Montel Williams." plump?
The first one might be kind of hard since you need a good balance of muscle and mass. The last one however shouldn't be that difficult to achieve. In fact you're about 6 months of dipping KFC drumsticks into Hagen Daas while watching Montel Williams away from seeing your dream come true. Oh, and meeting Montel Williams.
PS. If your arm goes numb, ignore it.
Tier 2
( Our on call techs drive me crazy sometimes. I paged him to call in to pick up a case..... )
SO: "I'm driving! I can't TAKE THE NUMBER!"
Then why did you call in for it? This whole procedure implies that I have information which I need to impart to you. That is why I paged you to begin with. You are not new to this process. You and I have experienced this adventure together before. You know what this harrowing journey entails already. You would be wise to prepare yourself.
So pull over and get out a pen you anuscake.
Service Charge
( This is 7am. 7am. )
Caller: "Yeah, there's a guy here that's locked out, can you get someone to let him in?"
Me: "Alright, can you let him know there may be a fee for it?"
Caller: "Hey! They're might be a fee for it."
( From the background, fantastically drunk )
SC: "I GOTZ, I gotsh 2 dollaz IN ma POCKETSES!"
I'm sure that'll cover it. Although you might want to check and see if you have any navel lint, beer bottle caps or other tattered bits of your ruined life to pay with just in case.
Aroma
I have bad luck on the Skytrain, as you're all aware. So it was really no surprise when some guy and his friends walked on tonight and he loudly proclaimed "Ugh, it stinks like HUMAN in here!". I had absolutely no idea what he meant until he said down in front of me. Then I realized he meant "humans who actually bath regularly". As the distinct smell of beer and Pinesol wafted into my face. I can kinda understand beer it being Saturday night……but Pinesol? Where the Hell did that came into play? Did you go down on Mr Clean?
Organizer
Me: "Good evening, <my company>."
SC: "Wha cumpany is dis?"
Me: "<My company>"
SC: "Wha…what is dis?"
Me: "We're a telecommunications company."
SC: "Telcommunicashuns like wha?"
Me: "…..like…..phones?"
( You can hear me almost laugh in her face on the call at this point.. >< )
SC: "Ok, I haz a question-"
( I recall saying <my company>, not "All Knowing Oracle Hotline" )
SC: "-have you ever heard of a service called Valueware Communications?"
Me: "Er, no."
SC: "It's like a collect call kind of place?"
Me: "No I haven't, sorry."
SC: "Ok."
That was so fantastically stupid on so many levels I may actually need to purchase a Blackberry to begin to organize them. Which I will purchase from Kara. As she seems to have fabulous deals on them. Then I will "move to China.".
You. Are. Not. Funny. ^#&$ off.
( After ordering a lottery ticket... )
SC: "Make sure it's a lucky one! Teehee!"
Ah, yes, because I haven't heard that joke or some variation on it on every lottery call I've taken in the last 5 years. Your banal attempt at humour only makes me more fervently hope that you that your ticket and thus money go completely to waste. I was only kind of hoping when you called me in the middle of the night over a friggan lottery ticket. But now I'm actively Googling for hex spells that can be cast using only Diet Pepsi and grape fruit scented hand sanitizer.
Shoo.
SC: "Is this a cab?"
Me: "No, sorry."
SC: "Teehee! Don't worry about it then!"
Did you just imply that I actually care? Because I can assure you, Paris, that I do not give a flaming crispy rat's ass hair being cautiously sniffed by a bloated, mange ridden tomcat on the bridge of the HMCS Dontgiveashit about you or your lack of transportation.
Amen.
Me: "Good evening, <corporate office for pizza chain>."
SC: "This a pizza place?"
Me: "Yes, did you need the number for orders?"
SC: "No, I wanted a cab."
Me: "Oh, the-"
SC: "Can you give me a ride?"
Me: "….no."
Well, I suppose I could. But it'd involve a trunk, a pier and a released emergency break.
Yet More Wrong Numbers
( This is a friggan real estate office. )
SC: "Yeah can I get 2 cases of-"
Me: "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number."
SC: "I do?"
Me: "Yes."
SC: "Why?"
Because your parents were siblings? I don't know. Leave me alone.
and again
SC: "Hi, yeah, can I ge-"
Me: "You still have the wrong number."
SC: "Nooooooooo!"
( It's not true! That's impossible! )
Me: "Yes."
SC: "Why?"
Me: "Oh, I don't know. because you dialed the wrong number?"
Happy now? I answered your question. Stew on that for a bit and let me know what you think. Actually, on second thought, don't. On second thought go to the kitchen, pull open the silverware drawer and just bang your face repeatedly into the collective sum of all the utensils you own until one of them gets stuck deep enough that it requires the assistance of a trained medical professional to remove.
867
Poor Bob. He's not exactly the fastest otter in the river to begin with and his night was rife with disappointment. All the poor bastard wanted as a hat. But alas, the hat he wanted was out of stock. There was no hat for Bob.
SC: "I just wanted a cap! <sob>"
Dejected, and with no foresight to have an alternative pick, he hung up. After some introspection, debate and a lot of looking at pretty pictures in the catalogue, he called back. This time he had another hat he wanted. Having parted with his first love, he had found what he had thought would be a suitable, if hollow, replacement…….and that too was out of stock. The faintly mewing kitten of renewed hope that was wavering delicately in his heart was hit by the lawn mower of disappointment and sprayed brutally across the lawn of defeat. Once again, his life shattered, he hung up.
Yet somewhere, deep in his broken heart, he managed to muster enough strength for one last try. He called again. This time he had one last cap that he desired……and we had it in stock!
Me: "Alright, I do have that one, but only in white."
SC: "Not in black?"
Me: "No, sorry."
Thus I crushed the last remnants of his soul and poor Bob hung up, wandered off into the darkness and was never heard from again.
Kettle, pot. Pot, kettle.
Alright, so tenant calls me.....
1) He left his apartment to go downstairs to let a friend in the front door.
2) While doing this, he locked himself out of his suite.
3) He also somehow managed to lock himself entirely out of the building at the same time.
4) In his brilliance, he also had his intercom code forwarded to his cell phone. So he could not even buzz his sleeping room mate to let him in.
Sadly, I can only render assistance in emergencies ( Fire, flood, etc ). I cannot render assistance to save someone from their own raging stupidity. He did not like this. So this sparkling genius of a man who had just accomplished the above 4 objectives referred to me as:
"Yer fukking dumb!"
I mean, there's throwing rocks from a glass house and then there's wildly careening through a glass house in a U-Haul rental truck while getting a hand job from hypocrisy.
Pied Piper
Me: "What's the problem?"
Caller: "ITS FULL OF MICE"
I assume by "it" you mean your suite and by "full of mice" you mean "OH GOD THE FLOOR IS AN CHURNING OCEAN OF RODENT". In which case you have my sympathies.
Ah, you're a clever one.
Me: "Are you a client of <this lawyer's office>?"
SC: "No. Well, I guess I am now."
Cute. But sadly that's not how it works. I think you have to shell out more then 25 cents at a pay phone to become a client. But I applaud your attempt at logic.
Mhmm.
SC: "Yeah I called a whil' go and they said I'd get a call back in 30 minutes. No one's called yet."
1) That was me. ( Hi again! Kiss kiss! )
2) I told you no such thing.
3) I even told you my name both times.
Did you have to go through any sort of special training to make a blundering ass of yourself that effortlessly or is it natural talent?
Busted
Caller calls to complain she lost $100 in our bill payment machine. Further complains she called days ago and still hasn't heard anything back. Curious, I check the tier 2 case notes and find delicious truthiness:
The steps she claimed happened:
- "Walked up to machine"
- Entered above account number
-Confirmed information
- Machine advised it wouldn't print a receipt she confirmed to continue.
- Put $100 bill in machine
- Machine did not credit money to account.
- She said she needed this money now, because the bill was due tonight
- She said if it wasn't done today they would shut off her power. This was around 9am on August 20th.
- She said it was "the machine in the corner"
- I told her that we couldn't do anything right now, she said that was fine but we could send cash collection out and they might do it today.
- She said that would be fine
- Oddly, she was no longer concerned about it not being paid today
- She said this whole bill was for $175
- She came in on August 7th and told us this exact same scenario. We pushed through $100 for her to make sure it wasn't disconnected while we waited on the field techs.
- It seems she is coming in to have us push through another $100. Because this will cover the rest of her bill.
- She's changed her story 3 times now.
- Scammer. Refused refund.
Busted!
Leave Me Alone!
.....and one last aggravation this morning....I'm waiting for the Skytrain...its 8am on a Sunday. I have been in the office for the last 9 hours. Working a 2 man shift alone. I am tired, bitter and fantastically antisocial. I am also leaning on the wall, eyes half closed.....and I sense someone entering my personal space.
I look up and here's some scrotal mold looking at me.
SM: "Hey!"
Me: ".....? <I give him the "what the hell? Do I know you? Why are you talking to me?" combo look>
SM: "Hey, buddy! How's it going?"
Me: ".....<grunt>"
( I'm waiting to be asked for directions or change. )
SM: "<He yammers brainlessly>"
Me: "......<frowning look of "wtf are you talking to me?">"
I realize he is the one kind of person I depise above all others on public transit: The chatter. The cave ape that sits down beside you and just strikes up a completely banal conversation for no apparent reason. That consists almost exclusively of him talking at you about the stupidest things ( Weather, sports, his wife, etc ). I HATE THESE PEOPLE. LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE. I have my eyes closed FOR A REASON.
SM: "<Yammering, and in my personal space>"
Me: "<I take several steps away to get him out of my space, he follows.>"
SM: "Are you Australian?"
Me: "...what? No."
I've now had it with this rectal termite. I walk away completely and to the other end of the platform. He has the nerve to give me this sarcastic little "Ooooooooookaaay"
Die in a fire. While holding hands with all you know and love.
<sob....days off...finally>
Without fail, every weekend, at some point I will be surrounded by what I can only refer to as the "Gene pool drowning victims" and they will engage in a dialog so painfully stupid that I just want to ask them if they seriously think thats conversation.
Case in point:
"Dude that ad has a piano falling on that guy!"
"Whoa, yeah. Its just like that song!"
"Huh? What song?"
"You know, Its Raining Pianos or something."
"By Sinatra right?"
"Yeah!"
<sigh>
Personal Trainer
SC: "I'm going to need a professional plumper."
….er, ok. Are we talking "I'm moving to Japan to set foot in the world of Sumo" plump or "6 months from now I want the paramedics to have to cut a hole out of my wall to remove me from the living room live on Montel Williams." plump?
The first one might be kind of hard since you need a good balance of muscle and mass. The last one however shouldn't be that difficult to achieve. In fact you're about 6 months of dipping KFC drumsticks into Hagen Daas while watching Montel Williams away from seeing your dream come true. Oh, and meeting Montel Williams.
PS. If your arm goes numb, ignore it.
Tier 2
( Our on call techs drive me crazy sometimes. I paged him to call in to pick up a case..... )
SO: "I'm driving! I can't TAKE THE NUMBER!"
Then why did you call in for it? This whole procedure implies that I have information which I need to impart to you. That is why I paged you to begin with. You are not new to this process. You and I have experienced this adventure together before. You know what this harrowing journey entails already. You would be wise to prepare yourself.
So pull over and get out a pen you anuscake.
Service Charge
( This is 7am. 7am. )
Caller: "Yeah, there's a guy here that's locked out, can you get someone to let him in?"
Me: "Alright, can you let him know there may be a fee for it?"
Caller: "Hey! They're might be a fee for it."
( From the background, fantastically drunk )
SC: "I GOTZ, I gotsh 2 dollaz IN ma POCKETSES!"
I'm sure that'll cover it. Although you might want to check and see if you have any navel lint, beer bottle caps or other tattered bits of your ruined life to pay with just in case.
Aroma
I have bad luck on the Skytrain, as you're all aware. So it was really no surprise when some guy and his friends walked on tonight and he loudly proclaimed "Ugh, it stinks like HUMAN in here!". I had absolutely no idea what he meant until he said down in front of me. Then I realized he meant "humans who actually bath regularly". As the distinct smell of beer and Pinesol wafted into my face. I can kinda understand beer it being Saturday night……but Pinesol? Where the Hell did that came into play? Did you go down on Mr Clean?
Organizer
Me: "Good evening, <my company>."
SC: "Wha cumpany is dis?"
Me: "<My company>"
SC: "Wha…what is dis?"
Me: "We're a telecommunications company."
SC: "Telcommunicashuns like wha?"
Me: "…..like…..phones?"
( You can hear me almost laugh in her face on the call at this point.. >< )
SC: "Ok, I haz a question-"
( I recall saying <my company>, not "All Knowing Oracle Hotline" )
SC: "-have you ever heard of a service called Valueware Communications?"
Me: "Er, no."
SC: "It's like a collect call kind of place?"
Me: "No I haven't, sorry."
SC: "Ok."
That was so fantastically stupid on so many levels I may actually need to purchase a Blackberry to begin to organize them. Which I will purchase from Kara. As she seems to have fabulous deals on them. Then I will "move to China.".
You. Are. Not. Funny. ^#&$ off.
( After ordering a lottery ticket... )
SC: "Make sure it's a lucky one! Teehee!"
Ah, yes, because I haven't heard that joke or some variation on it on every lottery call I've taken in the last 5 years. Your banal attempt at humour only makes me more fervently hope that you that your ticket and thus money go completely to waste. I was only kind of hoping when you called me in the middle of the night over a friggan lottery ticket. But now I'm actively Googling for hex spells that can be cast using only Diet Pepsi and grape fruit scented hand sanitizer.
Shoo.
SC: "Is this a cab?"
Me: "No, sorry."
SC: "Teehee! Don't worry about it then!"
Did you just imply that I actually care? Because I can assure you, Paris, that I do not give a flaming crispy rat's ass hair being cautiously sniffed by a bloated, mange ridden tomcat on the bridge of the HMCS Dontgiveashit about you or your lack of transportation.
Amen.
Me: "Good evening, <corporate office for pizza chain>."
SC: "This a pizza place?"
Me: "Yes, did you need the number for orders?"
SC: "No, I wanted a cab."
Me: "Oh, the-"
SC: "Can you give me a ride?"
Me: "….no."
Well, I suppose I could. But it'd involve a trunk, a pier and a released emergency break.
Yet More Wrong Numbers
( This is a friggan real estate office. )
SC: "Yeah can I get 2 cases of-"
Me: "I'm sorry, you have the wrong number."
SC: "I do?"
Me: "Yes."
SC: "Why?"
Because your parents were siblings? I don't know. Leave me alone.
and again
SC: "Hi, yeah, can I ge-"
Me: "You still have the wrong number."
SC: "Nooooooooo!"
( It's not true! That's impossible! )
Me: "Yes."
SC: "Why?"
Me: "Oh, I don't know. because you dialed the wrong number?"
Happy now? I answered your question. Stew on that for a bit and let me know what you think. Actually, on second thought, don't. On second thought go to the kitchen, pull open the silverware drawer and just bang your face repeatedly into the collective sum of all the utensils you own until one of them gets stuck deep enough that it requires the assistance of a trained medical professional to remove.
867
Poor Bob. He's not exactly the fastest otter in the river to begin with and his night was rife with disappointment. All the poor bastard wanted as a hat. But alas, the hat he wanted was out of stock. There was no hat for Bob.
SC: "I just wanted a cap! <sob>"
Dejected, and with no foresight to have an alternative pick, he hung up. After some introspection, debate and a lot of looking at pretty pictures in the catalogue, he called back. This time he had another hat he wanted. Having parted with his first love, he had found what he had thought would be a suitable, if hollow, replacement…….and that too was out of stock. The faintly mewing kitten of renewed hope that was wavering delicately in his heart was hit by the lawn mower of disappointment and sprayed brutally across the lawn of defeat. Once again, his life shattered, he hung up.
Yet somewhere, deep in his broken heart, he managed to muster enough strength for one last try. He called again. This time he had one last cap that he desired……and we had it in stock!
Me: "Alright, I do have that one, but only in white."
SC: "Not in black?"
Me: "No, sorry."
Thus I crushed the last remnants of his soul and poor Bob hung up, wandered off into the darkness and was never heard from again.
Kettle, pot. Pot, kettle.
Alright, so tenant calls me.....
1) He left his apartment to go downstairs to let a friend in the front door.
2) While doing this, he locked himself out of his suite.
3) He also somehow managed to lock himself entirely out of the building at the same time.
4) In his brilliance, he also had his intercom code forwarded to his cell phone. So he could not even buzz his sleeping room mate to let him in.
Sadly, I can only render assistance in emergencies ( Fire, flood, etc ). I cannot render assistance to save someone from their own raging stupidity. He did not like this. So this sparkling genius of a man who had just accomplished the above 4 objectives referred to me as:
"Yer fukking dumb!"
I mean, there's throwing rocks from a glass house and then there's wildly careening through a glass house in a U-Haul rental truck while getting a hand job from hypocrisy.
Pied Piper
Me: "What's the problem?"
Caller: "ITS FULL OF MICE"
I assume by "it" you mean your suite and by "full of mice" you mean "OH GOD THE FLOOR IS AN CHURNING OCEAN OF RODENT". In which case you have my sympathies.
Ah, you're a clever one.
Me: "Are you a client of <this lawyer's office>?"
SC: "No. Well, I guess I am now."
Cute. But sadly that's not how it works. I think you have to shell out more then 25 cents at a pay phone to become a client. But I applaud your attempt at logic.
Mhmm.
SC: "Yeah I called a whil' go and they said I'd get a call back in 30 minutes. No one's called yet."
1) That was me. ( Hi again! Kiss kiss! )
2) I told you no such thing.
3) I even told you my name both times.
Did you have to go through any sort of special training to make a blundering ass of yourself that effortlessly or is it natural talent?
Busted
Caller calls to complain she lost $100 in our bill payment machine. Further complains she called days ago and still hasn't heard anything back. Curious, I check the tier 2 case notes and find delicious truthiness:
The steps she claimed happened:
- "Walked up to machine"
- Entered above account number
-Confirmed information
- Machine advised it wouldn't print a receipt she confirmed to continue.
- Put $100 bill in machine
- Machine did not credit money to account.
- She said she needed this money now, because the bill was due tonight
- She said if it wasn't done today they would shut off her power. This was around 9am on August 20th.
- She said it was "the machine in the corner"
- I told her that we couldn't do anything right now, she said that was fine but we could send cash collection out and they might do it today.
- She said that would be fine
- Oddly, she was no longer concerned about it not being paid today
- She said this whole bill was for $175
- She came in on August 7th and told us this exact same scenario. We pushed through $100 for her to make sure it wasn't disconnected while we waited on the field techs.
- It seems she is coming in to have us push through another $100. Because this will cover the rest of her bill.
- She's changed her story 3 times now.
- Scammer. Refused refund.
Busted!
Leave Me Alone!
.....and one last aggravation this morning....I'm waiting for the Skytrain...its 8am on a Sunday. I have been in the office for the last 9 hours. Working a 2 man shift alone. I am tired, bitter and fantastically antisocial. I am also leaning on the wall, eyes half closed.....and I sense someone entering my personal space.
I look up and here's some scrotal mold looking at me.
SM: "Hey!"
Me: ".....? <I give him the "what the hell? Do I know you? Why are you talking to me?" combo look>
SM: "Hey, buddy! How's it going?"
Me: ".....<grunt>"
( I'm waiting to be asked for directions or change. )
SM: "<He yammers brainlessly>"
Me: "......<frowning look of "wtf are you talking to me?">"
I realize he is the one kind of person I depise above all others on public transit: The chatter. The cave ape that sits down beside you and just strikes up a completely banal conversation for no apparent reason. That consists almost exclusively of him talking at you about the stupidest things ( Weather, sports, his wife, etc ). I HATE THESE PEOPLE. LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE. I have my eyes closed FOR A REASON.
SM: "<Yammering, and in my personal space>"
Me: "<I take several steps away to get him out of my space, he follows.>"
SM: "Are you Australian?"
Me: "...what? No."
I've now had it with this rectal termite. I walk away completely and to the other end of the platform. He has the nerve to give me this sarcastic little "Ooooooooookaaay"
Die in a fire. While holding hands with all you know and love.
<sob....days off...finally>
<dabs at corners of eyes with a hanky>
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