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Gah, coworker bailed at the last moment last night. He was planning on vacation but called in and basically said his ride to Calgary was leaving NOW rather then at the end of the week. So no way could he come in.
Thus I was alone last night....normally I operate on 50% stupidity as this is a two person shift. But by myself I get 100% of the stupidity.. ><
Fashion Trends
Over the last 2 days I have seen 4 guys wearing leather miniskirts. Always at night and always around a 7/11. Both downtown and out in Burnaby. So….my question is: Did I miss a meeting? I wasn't aware this was fashionable for guys now. Because if it is I *seriously* need to shave my legs to get ready. Cus its like Sasquatch down there, I swear.
I Can't Believe I Did This...
Caller gave me his last name. I typed it in and went about my merry way in the script. Then I glanced back a few seconds later and I seriously had typed in "Asshat" for his last name instead. Thank God I double check everything when I take calls. Still, this is a bad sign. I'm mocking callers subconsciously now.
Abort, Abort
SC: "Yeah, I have an appointment tomorrow for my pap smear-"
Stop! Stop right there! I have shattered the glass on the Too Much Information Emergency Stop cabinet and am hammering the button wildly. Cease and desist. I do not require any more information then that. I did not even require that much information to begin with. A simple "I have an appointment tomorrow" would have been fine. Please do not elaborate on the details of whatever routine structural maintenance is being performed on your south regional girl tunnels. Or indeed any other plans you have made for your cootie terminal station.
The Parkade(tm)
SC: "My car is trapped in the parkade!"
Your problem, like many before, is destined to be sucked into the vast, murky Bermuda triangle that is my uncaring. Where it will mysteriously vanish never to be heard from again. Life will move on and no one will remember anything about your problem except for a small group of psychotic conspiracy theorists on the Internet who can't log onto the chat room unless they've wrapped their computer in tin foil to prevent their "wigabits" from being intercepted by the Illuminati.
The Parkade(tm): Round 2
( Same guy, calling again )
SC: "What time does the parkade open again in the morning?"
Me: "I'm not sure, I don't have hours listed for it. Were the parkade hours listed on the sign there?"
SC: "Yes."
…..so then why am I part of this conversation? This conversation should have occurred between you and your brain. I never should have been involved. But I'll tell you what: I am nothing if not helpful. So here's a pen. Take it. Cherish it. Stick one end up your left nostril and push as hard as you can until it disappears. That should help you out for next time. Because obviously your brain was missing something to connect the dots with.
867
SC: "Do you take tax exemption numbers?"
Me: "Yes we do."
SC: "Do you know my tax exemption number?"
Me: "No, sorry. I can enter it for your order though?"
SC: "No, I forgot it. Do you know it?"
Oh, I see, makes perfect sense. I realize to you the telephone may seem like some kind of awe inspiring mystical arcane artifact. But I can assure you that it’s a perfectly mundane item and you are not in fact contacting an oracle, prophet or ancestral spirit. I, like you, am a completely normal human. Granted my knuckles don't drag on the ground when I walk……nor do I smell vaguely like cheddar and bacon bits...and to be honest there's no dog chained to an old snow mobile transmission in my yard...….but other then that we're completely the same!
867
Me: "and your last name?"
SC: "Tshajapesh"
Ah, yes, an ancient Intuktitut name meaning "Appears on screen when you beat cat with keyboard".
Boris
Me: "did you see it in the paper?"
SC: "No I got a little flyer thing here…..uh, I think it came out of the paper? Wait…..I don't know where it came from."
Oh, that's just Boris. He's a 278 lb Russian man in a skin tight cat suit that we have randomly prowl the east coast. Whenever he spots a house without an <client name> roof he deftly breaks in, in the dead of night. Then he scratches his ass with every utensil in the kitchen, empties all your ice cube trays of all but one ice cube and then puts them back in the freezer, sniffs your panties, touches your dog inappropriately and then leaves our flyer on the coffee table. You may call him a thief. But we call him the <client name> Fairy.
What The Hell is with These Flyers....
SC: "Cus I'm like looking at the flyer and I'm like YEAH!"
…really? Usually when I see <client name> my reaction is @*)&$!! or "Jesus Christ rubbing a waffle against Bob Dole's pale naked ass, not you $@$^ing people again!".
Er, I mean...YEAH!
Kara, One's Missing from your Pen
( Keep in mind he's calling the company that services the kiosk that he pays his cell phone bill at. )
SC: "Yeah I just bought a <Kara's company> phone and its been charging overnight. But its still not working."
Me: "Alright, have you tried calling <Kara's company>?"
SC: "No."
Me: "....."
SC: "....."
At this point I'd like to just go dead silent and let them sit there and think about it for a while until it finally clicks in their head. However there's only 3 hours left in my shift and I doubt I could get that much overtime authorized.
Again? But That Trick Never Works.
( Different guy. Different parkade. )
SC: "My car is locked in the parkade!!~eleventy"
Wait, wait. Stop right there. Before we go any further I have a quick question for you: Do you have a pen handy?
Thus ends Day One.
Thus I was alone last night....normally I operate on 50% stupidity as this is a two person shift. But by myself I get 100% of the stupidity.. ><
Fashion Trends
Over the last 2 days I have seen 4 guys wearing leather miniskirts. Always at night and always around a 7/11. Both downtown and out in Burnaby. So….my question is: Did I miss a meeting? I wasn't aware this was fashionable for guys now. Because if it is I *seriously* need to shave my legs to get ready. Cus its like Sasquatch down there, I swear.
I Can't Believe I Did This...
Caller gave me his last name. I typed it in and went about my merry way in the script. Then I glanced back a few seconds later and I seriously had typed in "Asshat" for his last name instead. Thank God I double check everything when I take calls. Still, this is a bad sign. I'm mocking callers subconsciously now.
Abort, Abort
SC: "Yeah, I have an appointment tomorrow for my pap smear-"
Stop! Stop right there! I have shattered the glass on the Too Much Information Emergency Stop cabinet and am hammering the button wildly. Cease and desist. I do not require any more information then that. I did not even require that much information to begin with. A simple "I have an appointment tomorrow" would have been fine. Please do not elaborate on the details of whatever routine structural maintenance is being performed on your south regional girl tunnels. Or indeed any other plans you have made for your cootie terminal station.
The Parkade(tm)
SC: "My car is trapped in the parkade!"
Your problem, like many before, is destined to be sucked into the vast, murky Bermuda triangle that is my uncaring. Where it will mysteriously vanish never to be heard from again. Life will move on and no one will remember anything about your problem except for a small group of psychotic conspiracy theorists on the Internet who can't log onto the chat room unless they've wrapped their computer in tin foil to prevent their "wigabits" from being intercepted by the Illuminati.
The Parkade(tm): Round 2
( Same guy, calling again )
SC: "What time does the parkade open again in the morning?"
Me: "I'm not sure, I don't have hours listed for it. Were the parkade hours listed on the sign there?"
SC: "Yes."
…..so then why am I part of this conversation? This conversation should have occurred between you and your brain. I never should have been involved. But I'll tell you what: I am nothing if not helpful. So here's a pen. Take it. Cherish it. Stick one end up your left nostril and push as hard as you can until it disappears. That should help you out for next time. Because obviously your brain was missing something to connect the dots with.
867
SC: "Do you take tax exemption numbers?"
Me: "Yes we do."
SC: "Do you know my tax exemption number?"
Me: "No, sorry. I can enter it for your order though?"
SC: "No, I forgot it. Do you know it?"
Oh, I see, makes perfect sense. I realize to you the telephone may seem like some kind of awe inspiring mystical arcane artifact. But I can assure you that it’s a perfectly mundane item and you are not in fact contacting an oracle, prophet or ancestral spirit. I, like you, am a completely normal human. Granted my knuckles don't drag on the ground when I walk……nor do I smell vaguely like cheddar and bacon bits...and to be honest there's no dog chained to an old snow mobile transmission in my yard...….but other then that we're completely the same!
867
Me: "and your last name?"
SC: "Tshajapesh"
Ah, yes, an ancient Intuktitut name meaning "Appears on screen when you beat cat with keyboard".
Boris
Me: "did you see it in the paper?"
SC: "No I got a little flyer thing here…..uh, I think it came out of the paper? Wait…..I don't know where it came from."
Oh, that's just Boris. He's a 278 lb Russian man in a skin tight cat suit that we have randomly prowl the east coast. Whenever he spots a house without an <client name> roof he deftly breaks in, in the dead of night. Then he scratches his ass with every utensil in the kitchen, empties all your ice cube trays of all but one ice cube and then puts them back in the freezer, sniffs your panties, touches your dog inappropriately and then leaves our flyer on the coffee table. You may call him a thief. But we call him the <client name> Fairy.
What The Hell is with These Flyers....
SC: "Cus I'm like looking at the flyer and I'm like YEAH!"
…really? Usually when I see <client name> my reaction is @*)&$!! or "Jesus Christ rubbing a waffle against Bob Dole's pale naked ass, not you $@$^ing people again!".
Er, I mean...YEAH!
Kara, One's Missing from your Pen
( Keep in mind he's calling the company that services the kiosk that he pays his cell phone bill at. )
SC: "Yeah I just bought a <Kara's company> phone and its been charging overnight. But its still not working."
Me: "Alright, have you tried calling <Kara's company>?"
SC: "No."
Me: "....."
SC: "....."
At this point I'd like to just go dead silent and let them sit there and think about it for a while until it finally clicks in their head. However there's only 3 hours left in my shift and I doubt I could get that much overtime authorized.
Again? But That Trick Never Works.
( Different guy. Different parkade. )
SC: "My car is locked in the parkade!!~eleventy"
Wait, wait. Stop right there. Before we go any further I have a quick question for you: Do you have a pen handy?
Thus ends Day One.
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