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Leave English Alone!
Little slow with the stat holiday. Plus I find myself annoyingly stuck with several calls I cannot describe to you as they would reveal my clients. This saddens me. -.-
Wild
Me: “In what city?”
SC: “Keremeos”
Me: “Al-“
SC: “We’re the fruit stand capital of Canada!”
Really. Fascinating. You must be so proud. Admittedly “fruit stand” wasn’t what came to mind when I heard the name. “Pokemon” on the other hand. Still, fruit stand capital, eh? Must be a wild and crazy place up there. Fruit is synomous with par-tay you know. I'm amazed you dragged yourself away from snorting raisins off a hookers chest long enough to call.
Anonymous Tips
Thank you, I now know everything there is to know about your upstairs neighbours. I know that they “don’t seem to know its 2 in the morning”. I know they talk loudly. I know they like to hang out on their balcony. I know they smoke. I know they are making too much noise. I know they are in suite 204.
What I don’t know, ironically, is absolutely anything about you. As you simply hung up without providing me with a name, number, or perhaps most importantly, an address so that I might know where all of these tragic events are taking place. Even if I was so inclined to intervene, I do not even have a rough location of where these obviously heinous crimes are being committed.
LEAVE ENGLISH ALONE
Ok, that’s it. After years of wanton suffering at your greasy, simian paws it’s time to lay down some ground rules. Some guidelines for the abuse I endure if I am to continue to enable your stunning lack of fashion sense. But let us start with the first and more fundamental rule: If your name contains more than five of the same letter then you are not allowed to order from me ever again. No, I don’t care if it’s really your legal name. Five is the limit. Three if the letter is “Q”. You can shorten it to a nickname, or you can walk away sad and pantless.
Come now GK, you say. Aren’t you being a bit too harsh? No, I say! I had a caller this evening with six O’s in her name. SIX. O’S. If you have six O’s in your name you need to shorten just as a courtesy to friends and customer service representatives. Who should not have to jam a finger down their throat to pronounce it correctly. It didn’t even need six O’s, there were at least three auxiliary O’s. Someone is adding more O’s just for the hell of having more O’s. I do not know who this person is, but I am not a cruel man. I will offer them amnesty. But only if they turn themselves in immediately and provide us with any information they can that may lead us to finding and stopping the guy handing out the extra Q’s.
He’s the real criminal.
Anonymous Tips 2
Oh! Hello again. I was just pondering what I was going to do with the total absence of information you provided me. It is most fortunate that you have once again called to grumpily complain. I shall be sure to send a gift basket to the squirming rodent lodged up your backside later to show my appreciation.
Now, if I can just get some information fr-oh you say they’re in 206? Not 204? Ok, well, can I just get y-annnd you hung up again.
Ominous
Me: “And is there any time you’d like them to call?”
SC: “Today.”
….I fear I am about to become the bearer of bad news. But the tone in your voice makes me afraid to admit it. I have no wish to die over aluminium siding. I always pictured my death being a tad more glorious or at the very least somewhat more amusing. Really, I’m aiming for a Fark.com headline if at all possible.
How The Internet Works
SC: “Do you have parts fer a Kawasaki 4 wheelers?”
Me: “I think you have the wrong number.”
SC: “I have the wrong number?”
Me: “Yes”
SC: “What is this?”
Me: “This is <domain registrant company>”
SC: “Who?”
Me: “We buy & sell domain names on the internet.”
SC: “This isn’t <url that vaguely sounds like bikes are involved>?”
Me: “We may own that domain, but we don’t have anything to do with bike parts.”
SC: “……uh, wha?”
Me: “We may own the name of the website, and we’re selling it. But we don’t have anything to do with bike parts.”
SC: “But I went to <url> on the computer, n’ it gave me dis number.”
You know, at no point in human history has there ever been anything with such a massive gap between using and understanding as the Internet. The term “user friendly” is a plague upon human evolution and is slowly eroding us as a species. Computers and the Internet do not need to be made easier. It leads to people like this. People who actually think there’s a Nigerian prince somewhere that wants to give them 10 million dollars. If only they would fork over all of their banking information. Which they will happily do. Right after they finish forwarding this amazing email full of adorable animals to every single person they know on Earth that they have an email address for.
The Internet should be hard to access. To ensure only those capable of grasping the wonders and terrors within may reach it.. You should have to solve some sort of riddle or puzzle before it will even connect. Something that involves math or a sundial or something. That will permit you on the Internet for 24 hours before you have to solve another one. If you want permanent access you have to sit down and play all the way through Myst.
Oh, you laugh. But mark my words. Someday the geek shall inherit the Earth. And these laws will be standard.
Me: “We own the domain name itself, and we’re selling it. That’s why our number comes up.”
You know, along with the message "This domain name is for sale by <company>, please call xxx-xxx-xxxx for inquiries". Which you somehow read and interpreted as "We have bike parts". Despite there being absolutely nothing on the webpage that any way indicates we have or can provide anything related to bikes. Not even a picture of a bike. Just that message.
SC: “Ok….but you don’t sell no 4 wheeler parts?”
Me: “No, we don’t”
SC: “Do you know any place that does?”
……Perhaps we should devise a similar test before you’re allowed to dial a phone too.
Hot Tips
SC: “Hi, my name is Vick."
Sigh. Really, boy. How are you not committed yet?
SC: “I have information stuck in my head, and I don’t know how to get it out.”
Try a fork. It would solve both of our problems.
Hot Tips
“Yes, hi. It’s Vick again. I got cut off.”
Yes, I seem to have mistakenly mashed F4 ( the disconnect key ) with as much force as I could muster and hung up on you. I’m not sure exactly how it happened. But I assure you it was completely by mistake and I beg your humble forgiveness. It won’t happen again. Please, continue.
SC: “As I was s-“
Dammit! I’m sorry, my finger is just so fat and heavy I can’t seem to keep it over my keyboard without dropping it. And it just seems to land on F4 every time. It’s the damnedest thing.
Amazing!
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “ya.”
Me: “A-“
SC: “It would be a’ cap!”
No, really? A cap you say? Why no one has ever called at this godforsaken hour and ordered a hat before! Next you’ll tell me you want to order pants. Also, congratulations for spending $30 on a hat. But $54.50 on shipping and tax.
Intermediary
Over the course of this excruciatingly long call I have made several observations. Which I would like to share with you, the caller, so that in the future you may make some effort to avoid these pitfalls. Thus making both of our lives easier.
First of all, if you’re going to be the one talking and placing the order please ensure you are also the one actually holding the catalog. Your constant need to consult with someone else in the background regarding the contents of the catalog is magnifying the length of this call in an alarming and completely unnecessary fashion. As is your need to consult with them about every single product number of the order as well as the size and colour of each product.
Really, you have nothing to do with this call whatsoever but for some reason Background Monkey is insisting on communicating through you. Why this is, I do not know. You have the intellect, verbal skills and vocabulary of a wet dish towel. You’re not exactly the first candidate I would choose as my intermediary. This call would go much faster if she spoke to me directly through an actual wet dish towel.
Passtimes
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “uh, bala da do see TABLE?!”
Me: “….excuse me?”
SC: “Huhuhuh, it’s dirty! Hello!”
Me: “….hi?”
SC: “Can I like to order place?”
You are way too stoned to be making financial decisions right now. Though I find myself alarmed and confused that “Getting high and ordering pants” is what actually qualifies as entertainment up there these days.
( She ended up ordering $800 worth too.... )
Anonymous Tip 3
SC: “Yeah, I’m calling from 106 again at <building>.”
Oh, hello again! Yes, I believe I spoke with you the other day! About the smokers in unit 206, right? Wow, 106 at <building>. You actually gave me information this time! Some, anyway. Not enough, granted. But it’s a start! We’re making progress! Yay!
SC: “206 has a god damn problem. If you people can’t get them under control I will phone the god damn police!!”
O-kay. Right, not helpful information but ok, you haven’t hung up on me yet. So that’s something at least. I’m not sure I appreciate the yelling. But at least you’re still communicating!
Me: “Alright, I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do about them this early but I can-“
SC: “WELL YOU CAN DROP DEAD THEN!! <click>”
Alright then. Though I should perhaps point out that while you did not grace me with a name and number this time, you were kind enough to tell me where you live and in what suite before you screamed at me to drop dead. If you really must insist on abusing employees at the afterhours service perhaps you should do so before you give us enough indentifying information to leave a note for the property owner.
Just a thought.
Stop, Stop! It's Already Dead!
SC: “N for Mildred. A for Australia. H for Uncle. A for Australia. N for Mildred. P for Perrin. E for Australia. R for Thailand.”
….wha-what? I don’t even….ok, let’s try this again.
SC: “N for Mildred. A for Australia. H for Hong Kong. A for Australia. N for Mildred. P for Jello. E for Australia. R for Red.”
...I....the...ok, one more time. I'm ready this time. Go ahead. Lay it on me. I can take it.
SC: “N for Mildred. A for Australia. H for Hong Kong. A for Australia. N for Mildred. P for Jello. E for Australia. Way for Kilo.”
....no I can't, I am now even more confused.
Me: “What was that?”
SC: “Way for Halo.”
Me: “....Way?”
SC: “Way. You know, way? For Nicaragua?”
Me: “…I don’t understand sorry?”
SC: “Way way, the letter before Zed.”
Me: “Y?”
SC: “Yes.”
Ok, enough. I’m leaving. I don’t know what English did to you or your family, but I cannot in good conscience sit here and watch you do this too it. You sir, are a monster.
annnnnd rest.
Wild
Me: “In what city?”
SC: “Keremeos”
Me: “Al-“
SC: “We’re the fruit stand capital of Canada!”
Really. Fascinating. You must be so proud. Admittedly “fruit stand” wasn’t what came to mind when I heard the name. “Pokemon” on the other hand. Still, fruit stand capital, eh? Must be a wild and crazy place up there. Fruit is synomous with par-tay you know. I'm amazed you dragged yourself away from snorting raisins off a hookers chest long enough to call.
Anonymous Tips
Thank you, I now know everything there is to know about your upstairs neighbours. I know that they “don’t seem to know its 2 in the morning”. I know they talk loudly. I know they like to hang out on their balcony. I know they smoke. I know they are making too much noise. I know they are in suite 204.
What I don’t know, ironically, is absolutely anything about you. As you simply hung up without providing me with a name, number, or perhaps most importantly, an address so that I might know where all of these tragic events are taking place. Even if I was so inclined to intervene, I do not even have a rough location of where these obviously heinous crimes are being committed.
LEAVE ENGLISH ALONE
Ok, that’s it. After years of wanton suffering at your greasy, simian paws it’s time to lay down some ground rules. Some guidelines for the abuse I endure if I am to continue to enable your stunning lack of fashion sense. But let us start with the first and more fundamental rule: If your name contains more than five of the same letter then you are not allowed to order from me ever again. No, I don’t care if it’s really your legal name. Five is the limit. Three if the letter is “Q”. You can shorten it to a nickname, or you can walk away sad and pantless.
Come now GK, you say. Aren’t you being a bit too harsh? No, I say! I had a caller this evening with six O’s in her name. SIX. O’S. If you have six O’s in your name you need to shorten just as a courtesy to friends and customer service representatives. Who should not have to jam a finger down their throat to pronounce it correctly. It didn’t even need six O’s, there were at least three auxiliary O’s. Someone is adding more O’s just for the hell of having more O’s. I do not know who this person is, but I am not a cruel man. I will offer them amnesty. But only if they turn themselves in immediately and provide us with any information they can that may lead us to finding and stopping the guy handing out the extra Q’s.
He’s the real criminal.
Anonymous Tips 2
Oh! Hello again. I was just pondering what I was going to do with the total absence of information you provided me. It is most fortunate that you have once again called to grumpily complain. I shall be sure to send a gift basket to the squirming rodent lodged up your backside later to show my appreciation.
Now, if I can just get some information fr-oh you say they’re in 206? Not 204? Ok, well, can I just get y-annnd you hung up again.
Ominous
Me: “And is there any time you’d like them to call?”
SC: “Today.”
….I fear I am about to become the bearer of bad news. But the tone in your voice makes me afraid to admit it. I have no wish to die over aluminium siding. I always pictured my death being a tad more glorious or at the very least somewhat more amusing. Really, I’m aiming for a Fark.com headline if at all possible.
How The Internet Works
SC: “Do you have parts fer a Kawasaki 4 wheelers?”
Me: “I think you have the wrong number.”
SC: “I have the wrong number?”
Me: “Yes”
SC: “What is this?”
Me: “This is <domain registrant company>”
SC: “Who?”
Me: “We buy & sell domain names on the internet.”
SC: “This isn’t <url that vaguely sounds like bikes are involved>?”
Me: “We may own that domain, but we don’t have anything to do with bike parts.”
SC: “……uh, wha?”
Me: “We may own the name of the website, and we’re selling it. But we don’t have anything to do with bike parts.”
SC: “But I went to <url> on the computer, n’ it gave me dis number.”
You know, at no point in human history has there ever been anything with such a massive gap between using and understanding as the Internet. The term “user friendly” is a plague upon human evolution and is slowly eroding us as a species. Computers and the Internet do not need to be made easier. It leads to people like this. People who actually think there’s a Nigerian prince somewhere that wants to give them 10 million dollars. If only they would fork over all of their banking information. Which they will happily do. Right after they finish forwarding this amazing email full of adorable animals to every single person they know on Earth that they have an email address for.
The Internet should be hard to access. To ensure only those capable of grasping the wonders and terrors within may reach it.. You should have to solve some sort of riddle or puzzle before it will even connect. Something that involves math or a sundial or something. That will permit you on the Internet for 24 hours before you have to solve another one. If you want permanent access you have to sit down and play all the way through Myst.
Oh, you laugh. But mark my words. Someday the geek shall inherit the Earth. And these laws will be standard.
Me: “We own the domain name itself, and we’re selling it. That’s why our number comes up.”
You know, along with the message "This domain name is for sale by <company>, please call xxx-xxx-xxxx for inquiries". Which you somehow read and interpreted as "We have bike parts". Despite there being absolutely nothing on the webpage that any way indicates we have or can provide anything related to bikes. Not even a picture of a bike. Just that message.
SC: “Ok….but you don’t sell no 4 wheeler parts?”
Me: “No, we don’t”
SC: “Do you know any place that does?”
……Perhaps we should devise a similar test before you’re allowed to dial a phone too.
Hot Tips
SC: “Hi, my name is Vick."
Sigh. Really, boy. How are you not committed yet?
SC: “I have information stuck in my head, and I don’t know how to get it out.”
Try a fork. It would solve both of our problems.
Hot Tips
“Yes, hi. It’s Vick again. I got cut off.”
Yes, I seem to have mistakenly mashed F4 ( the disconnect key ) with as much force as I could muster and hung up on you. I’m not sure exactly how it happened. But I assure you it was completely by mistake and I beg your humble forgiveness. It won’t happen again. Please, continue.
SC: “As I was s-“
Dammit! I’m sorry, my finger is just so fat and heavy I can’t seem to keep it over my keyboard without dropping it. And it just seems to land on F4 every time. It’s the damnedest thing.
Amazing!
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “ya.”
Me: “A-“
SC: “It would be a’ cap!”
No, really? A cap you say? Why no one has ever called at this godforsaken hour and ordered a hat before! Next you’ll tell me you want to order pants. Also, congratulations for spending $30 on a hat. But $54.50 on shipping and tax.
Intermediary
Over the course of this excruciatingly long call I have made several observations. Which I would like to share with you, the caller, so that in the future you may make some effort to avoid these pitfalls. Thus making both of our lives easier.
First of all, if you’re going to be the one talking and placing the order please ensure you are also the one actually holding the catalog. Your constant need to consult with someone else in the background regarding the contents of the catalog is magnifying the length of this call in an alarming and completely unnecessary fashion. As is your need to consult with them about every single product number of the order as well as the size and colour of each product.
Really, you have nothing to do with this call whatsoever but for some reason Background Monkey is insisting on communicating through you. Why this is, I do not know. You have the intellect, verbal skills and vocabulary of a wet dish towel. You’re not exactly the first candidate I would choose as my intermediary. This call would go much faster if she spoke to me directly through an actual wet dish towel.
Passtimes
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “uh, bala da do see TABLE?!”
Me: “….excuse me?”
SC: “Huhuhuh, it’s dirty! Hello!”
Me: “….hi?”
SC: “Can I like to order place?”
You are way too stoned to be making financial decisions right now. Though I find myself alarmed and confused that “Getting high and ordering pants” is what actually qualifies as entertainment up there these days.
( She ended up ordering $800 worth too.... )
Anonymous Tip 3
SC: “Yeah, I’m calling from 106 again at <building>.”
Oh, hello again! Yes, I believe I spoke with you the other day! About the smokers in unit 206, right? Wow, 106 at <building>. You actually gave me information this time! Some, anyway. Not enough, granted. But it’s a start! We’re making progress! Yay!
SC: “206 has a god damn problem. If you people can’t get them under control I will phone the god damn police!!”
O-kay. Right, not helpful information but ok, you haven’t hung up on me yet. So that’s something at least. I’m not sure I appreciate the yelling. But at least you’re still communicating!
Me: “Alright, I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do about them this early but I can-“
SC: “WELL YOU CAN DROP DEAD THEN!! <click>”
Alright then. Though I should perhaps point out that while you did not grace me with a name and number this time, you were kind enough to tell me where you live and in what suite before you screamed at me to drop dead. If you really must insist on abusing employees at the afterhours service perhaps you should do so before you give us enough indentifying information to leave a note for the property owner.
Just a thought.
Stop, Stop! It's Already Dead!
SC: “N for Mildred. A for Australia. H for Uncle. A for Australia. N for Mildred. P for Perrin. E for Australia. R for Thailand.”
….wha-what? I don’t even….ok, let’s try this again.
SC: “N for Mildred. A for Australia. H for Hong Kong. A for Australia. N for Mildred. P for Jello. E for Australia. R for Red.”
...I....the...ok, one more time. I'm ready this time. Go ahead. Lay it on me. I can take it.
SC: “N for Mildred. A for Australia. H for Hong Kong. A for Australia. N for Mildred. P for Jello. E for Australia. Way for Kilo.”
....no I can't, I am now even more confused.
Me: “What was that?”
SC: “Way for Halo.”
Me: “....Way?”
SC: “Way. You know, way? For Nicaragua?”
Me: “…I don’t understand sorry?”
SC: “Way way, the letter before Zed.”
Me: “Y?”
SC: “Yes.”
Ok, enough. I’m leaving. I don’t know what English did to you or your family, but I cannot in good conscience sit here and watch you do this too it. You sir, are a monster.
annnnnd rest.
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