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Wherein We Use The F Word With Unsettling Frequency
Gah, and it will only get worse this week with the last minute shoopers.... -.-
Common Courtesy
SC: “Yeah, I got an email from you guys a few days ago”
And the best time you could think of to follow up on this email was 3am? I’m not precisely sure what it is you expect from me at this hour. Obviously, the office is closed and it’s not as if I was the one who sent the email. So I would have no knowledge of its contents. Thus I will assume you are merely calling to let me know that you received the email. In which case, thank you! It was quite nice of you to follow up and confirm you received the email I never sent and have no knowledge of. I really appreciate it!
Truly, more people should be this courteous.
Ok?
Me: "Are you calling to place an order?"
SC: “I sorry.”
While I appreciate your heartfelt apology delivered in the manner of an adorably guilty 3 year old, you have not actually said or done anything yet to merit one. Thus I have to wonder exactly why you feel the need to apologize? Is it pre-emptive? Are you going to do something for which you will need to apologize? Really, I know navigating the process of ordering clothes is…difficult….for some of you, but there’s no need to apologize. I mean, you can’t hel-…..is that Katy Perry’s Fireworks playing in the background? …..Are you going to leave that on full blast for the entire call?
Ok, your apology makes more sense now. However, in the future I would appreciate a warning instead or ideally, classic rock.
Dem Pants
Alright, look. There’s no easy way to say this. So I’ll just come right out with it: This is an intervention. You have a problem. I know, I know, it’s hard to admit. I understand. But it’s alright. Everyone has their vices, you know? Of course, most people pick something normal. Like alcohol or chocolate or possibly My Little Pony. But not pants. But still, I won’t judge. I’m not here to judge. I’m here to help or at the very least direct you towards professional help.
I know, you’re in denial. You don’t think anything is wrong with you. But let’s look at the facts here. You wanted to buy a pair of pants. Just one pair of pants. Yet, you had idealized this pair of pants to a point where no pair of pants could possibly live up to the mental image you were holding of your perfect pants. You had romanticized them to a standard that no mere mortal pair of pants could possible live up too. You have put them on a pedestal and that’s just not healthy for your relationship with your pants.
Then whilst seeking this soul mate of pants, you furiously and quite audibly flipped the pages of the catalog approximately 106 times of the course of 5 minutes trying to find this mythical pair of pants you claim you saw. Despite there only being 5 pages of pants in that catalog and only 52 pages of catalog total. Yes, I counted. Because by god I'm a CSR and I am here to help. One way or another. I will either find you pants or I will have you committed. Either way, you will receive professional, courteous assistance and possibly heavy medication.
Dem Pants II
SC: “Was it you I was just talking too?”
Me: “Oh, yes?”
SC: “I found dem pants!! <giggle>”
Have you now? You finally found the pants that live up to all of your standards and expectations? The greatest pants to ever be sewn by the hand of man or machine? Do tell. I am curious now. What be these pants you idolize so? Let’s see……so your ideal is sweat pants? .....With a “Derriere embroidery”? Well, truly you have an eye for both quality and class. I mean, they even used French. So you know it’s classy. This must be a truly elegant embroider-
-ok it says "LOVE ME" on the ass in Segoe Script. Alright then.
The Ballad Of Jim
Meet Jim. Jim is a customer of one of our clients. Jim is also utterly skunk drunk so the Ballad of Jim had to be relayed to me by the Bard of BC Ambulance. You see, Jim was out at the pub and just really really wanted to give one of his bros a hug. But Jim is utterly skunk drunk remember. So Jim’s ill coordinated attempt at a hug ended up with Jim face planting into a stair rail. Jim has now broken his face. Now, the kind folk from BC Ambulance patched Jim as best they could and are preparing to take Jim to the hospital. Because Jim's face needs to be professionally fixed at this point. However, Jim would not go until he could rest assured that one last request was fulfilled on his behalf:
You see, Jim was refusing to be taken to the hospital until, and I quote the paramedic: “He was adamant that he wouldn't go until we called you and told you the story”. So, Jim, where ever you are, you can rest assured. I have heard your tale and your legend will live on.
Remember kids, when you break your face, be sure to call and let your real estate agent know.
It Finally Dawned
Me: “I only have that item in stock in Large and the colour blue.”
SC: “….What does that mean?”
Eureka! Bless your heart, child! Many have come before you, and not a single one of them has been able to grasp the concept of the word “only”. But you are the first amongst them with the strength to admit it. Finally, one of you has realized the glaring hole in your knowledge. Perhaps now, with this realization, we can finally move forward and the healing can begin. You can finally move to embrace the wisdom you so sorely lack-
SC: “Does that mean it will take longer?”
….-which may take quite a bit more time than I initially anticipated.
Motto
Me: “Alright, what size?”
SC: “Medium”
Me: “Medium?”
SC: “Noyeah.”
…..Noyeah? No….yeah? I may have to borrow that “word”. It so neatly encapsulates the entirety of the problems I have on this line in the middle of the night. It’s not proper English, it makes no apparent sense, it contradicts itself and saying it out loud makes you sound like kind of an idiot. It’s perfect. In fact, you should really just make it your motto somehow. Maybe put it on a flag or have it translated into Latin and put it on a family crest.
Thats Quite Impressive
I passed a trio of fine young gentlemen a block from here on the way to work. Two of which were struggling to drag the third. Who, when I passed, slurred my new favourite line of the week:
"Oh god, I think I roofie'd myself"
Crossroads
I feel we’ve reached a peculiar impasse. You’ve managed to make use of the website, thereby taking a great leap forward from the rest of the herd. But by the same measure, you can’t read the website and are ordering things despite the website clearly saying they’re sold out. Thus occupying this strange little neutral zone between Inept and Competent that’s somehow more annoying than just being inept would have been.
You have discovered fire my friend, yet still cannot grasp why you keep getting burnt when you try to pick it up.
How Not To Ask For A Favour
Translink Presents: How Not To Ask For A Favour
So you’re stuck at the Skytrain station this morning, and you really need to make a phone call. But lack a device capable of such wizardry. Your only recourse is to ask if anyone can lend you their cell phone for a moment. An extremely precarious endeavour as such devices are typically more important to people then their spouse is. So logic would dictate that you should exceedingly polite in asking to use such a personal device.
Nope! Stumble onto the Skytrain platform and loudly proclaim “HEY CAN ANYONE LEND ME THEIR CELLPHONE SO I CAN MAKE A CALL!?!” at the absolute top of your lungs. Then wander the length of the platform rambling about how you really really need to make a phone call. Bonus points for pointedly asking me, who does not keep such a device on his person, if you could borrow it. Then, when I tell you I do not in fact have a cell phone on me, keep talking to me about why you need to make a call anyway.
Because hey! Obviously a total stranger would be riveted by the fact you need to call your mom really quick because she’s going to be late for work because she has your dog with her and if she leaves with your dog she’ll have to drive back to the house to drop your dog off because you can’t come get your dog so she’ll be late for work and oh my god she has your dog. Also, be sure to use the word “fucking” as a form of punctuation throughout this entire diatribe. Then look confused as to why no one will lend you their cell phone.
But no one like’s a quitter right? So logically the next step is to go from Skytrain car to Skytrain car, getting off at each stop and getting back on again on the next car down. Searching for someone to lend you a cell phone. Thus encountering me all over again and asking me again if you can use my none existent phone. Be sure to go to each person in turn and yell at them if you can use their “fucking phone”. After they answer in the negative, call them a “fucking asshole” then immediately go to the next person beside them and ask that person. Because, really, who wouldn’t want to hand a $400 iPhone over to a loud, rude, obnoxious raging psychotic in the middle of a total melt down.
After failing to obtain a cell phone, be sure to spend the next 5 minutes of the ride to the next station in the corner ranting and yelling about how we’re all fucking assholes and how we’re killing you and you can’t believe that no one would lend you their phone for like 10 seconds so you can call your fucking mom because she fucking has your fucking dog and she'll be fucking late if you don't fucking call her right now because you fucking can't come get your fucking dog because fuckity fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck look at Fucky go.
annnd rest. -.-
Common Courtesy
SC: “Yeah, I got an email from you guys a few days ago”
And the best time you could think of to follow up on this email was 3am? I’m not precisely sure what it is you expect from me at this hour. Obviously, the office is closed and it’s not as if I was the one who sent the email. So I would have no knowledge of its contents. Thus I will assume you are merely calling to let me know that you received the email. In which case, thank you! It was quite nice of you to follow up and confirm you received the email I never sent and have no knowledge of. I really appreciate it!
Truly, more people should be this courteous.
Ok?
Me: "Are you calling to place an order?"
SC: “I sorry.”
While I appreciate your heartfelt apology delivered in the manner of an adorably guilty 3 year old, you have not actually said or done anything yet to merit one. Thus I have to wonder exactly why you feel the need to apologize? Is it pre-emptive? Are you going to do something for which you will need to apologize? Really, I know navigating the process of ordering clothes is…difficult….for some of you, but there’s no need to apologize. I mean, you can’t hel-…..is that Katy Perry’s Fireworks playing in the background? …..Are you going to leave that on full blast for the entire call?
Ok, your apology makes more sense now. However, in the future I would appreciate a warning instead or ideally, classic rock.
Dem Pants
Alright, look. There’s no easy way to say this. So I’ll just come right out with it: This is an intervention. You have a problem. I know, I know, it’s hard to admit. I understand. But it’s alright. Everyone has their vices, you know? Of course, most people pick something normal. Like alcohol or chocolate or possibly My Little Pony. But not pants. But still, I won’t judge. I’m not here to judge. I’m here to help or at the very least direct you towards professional help.
I know, you’re in denial. You don’t think anything is wrong with you. But let’s look at the facts here. You wanted to buy a pair of pants. Just one pair of pants. Yet, you had idealized this pair of pants to a point where no pair of pants could possibly live up to the mental image you were holding of your perfect pants. You had romanticized them to a standard that no mere mortal pair of pants could possible live up too. You have put them on a pedestal and that’s just not healthy for your relationship with your pants.
Then whilst seeking this soul mate of pants, you furiously and quite audibly flipped the pages of the catalog approximately 106 times of the course of 5 minutes trying to find this mythical pair of pants you claim you saw. Despite there only being 5 pages of pants in that catalog and only 52 pages of catalog total. Yes, I counted. Because by god I'm a CSR and I am here to help. One way or another. I will either find you pants or I will have you committed. Either way, you will receive professional, courteous assistance and possibly heavy medication.
Dem Pants II
SC: “Was it you I was just talking too?”
Me: “Oh, yes?”
SC: “I found dem pants!! <giggle>”
Have you now? You finally found the pants that live up to all of your standards and expectations? The greatest pants to ever be sewn by the hand of man or machine? Do tell. I am curious now. What be these pants you idolize so? Let’s see……so your ideal is sweat pants? .....With a “Derriere embroidery”? Well, truly you have an eye for both quality and class. I mean, they even used French. So you know it’s classy. This must be a truly elegant embroider-
-ok it says "LOVE ME" on the ass in Segoe Script. Alright then.
The Ballad Of Jim
Meet Jim. Jim is a customer of one of our clients. Jim is also utterly skunk drunk so the Ballad of Jim had to be relayed to me by the Bard of BC Ambulance. You see, Jim was out at the pub and just really really wanted to give one of his bros a hug. But Jim is utterly skunk drunk remember. So Jim’s ill coordinated attempt at a hug ended up with Jim face planting into a stair rail. Jim has now broken his face. Now, the kind folk from BC Ambulance patched Jim as best they could and are preparing to take Jim to the hospital. Because Jim's face needs to be professionally fixed at this point. However, Jim would not go until he could rest assured that one last request was fulfilled on his behalf:
You see, Jim was refusing to be taken to the hospital until, and I quote the paramedic: “He was adamant that he wouldn't go until we called you and told you the story”. So, Jim, where ever you are, you can rest assured. I have heard your tale and your legend will live on.
Remember kids, when you break your face, be sure to call and let your real estate agent know.
It Finally Dawned
Me: “I only have that item in stock in Large and the colour blue.”
SC: “….What does that mean?”
Eureka! Bless your heart, child! Many have come before you, and not a single one of them has been able to grasp the concept of the word “only”. But you are the first amongst them with the strength to admit it. Finally, one of you has realized the glaring hole in your knowledge. Perhaps now, with this realization, we can finally move forward and the healing can begin. You can finally move to embrace the wisdom you so sorely lack-
SC: “Does that mean it will take longer?”
….-which may take quite a bit more time than I initially anticipated.
Motto
Me: “Alright, what size?”
SC: “Medium”
Me: “Medium?”
SC: “Noyeah.”
…..Noyeah? No….yeah? I may have to borrow that “word”. It so neatly encapsulates the entirety of the problems I have on this line in the middle of the night. It’s not proper English, it makes no apparent sense, it contradicts itself and saying it out loud makes you sound like kind of an idiot. It’s perfect. In fact, you should really just make it your motto somehow. Maybe put it on a flag or have it translated into Latin and put it on a family crest.
Thats Quite Impressive
I passed a trio of fine young gentlemen a block from here on the way to work. Two of which were struggling to drag the third. Who, when I passed, slurred my new favourite line of the week:
"Oh god, I think I roofie'd myself"
Crossroads
I feel we’ve reached a peculiar impasse. You’ve managed to make use of the website, thereby taking a great leap forward from the rest of the herd. But by the same measure, you can’t read the website and are ordering things despite the website clearly saying they’re sold out. Thus occupying this strange little neutral zone between Inept and Competent that’s somehow more annoying than just being inept would have been.
You have discovered fire my friend, yet still cannot grasp why you keep getting burnt when you try to pick it up.
How Not To Ask For A Favour
Translink Presents: How Not To Ask For A Favour
So you’re stuck at the Skytrain station this morning, and you really need to make a phone call. But lack a device capable of such wizardry. Your only recourse is to ask if anyone can lend you their cell phone for a moment. An extremely precarious endeavour as such devices are typically more important to people then their spouse is. So logic would dictate that you should exceedingly polite in asking to use such a personal device.
Nope! Stumble onto the Skytrain platform and loudly proclaim “HEY CAN ANYONE LEND ME THEIR CELLPHONE SO I CAN MAKE A CALL!?!” at the absolute top of your lungs. Then wander the length of the platform rambling about how you really really need to make a phone call. Bonus points for pointedly asking me, who does not keep such a device on his person, if you could borrow it. Then, when I tell you I do not in fact have a cell phone on me, keep talking to me about why you need to make a call anyway.
Because hey! Obviously a total stranger would be riveted by the fact you need to call your mom really quick because she’s going to be late for work because she has your dog with her and if she leaves with your dog she’ll have to drive back to the house to drop your dog off because you can’t come get your dog so she’ll be late for work and oh my god she has your dog. Also, be sure to use the word “fucking” as a form of punctuation throughout this entire diatribe. Then look confused as to why no one will lend you their cell phone.
But no one like’s a quitter right? So logically the next step is to go from Skytrain car to Skytrain car, getting off at each stop and getting back on again on the next car down. Searching for someone to lend you a cell phone. Thus encountering me all over again and asking me again if you can use my none existent phone. Be sure to go to each person in turn and yell at them if you can use their “fucking phone”. After they answer in the negative, call them a “fucking asshole” then immediately go to the next person beside them and ask that person. Because, really, who wouldn’t want to hand a $400 iPhone over to a loud, rude, obnoxious raging psychotic in the middle of a total melt down.
After failing to obtain a cell phone, be sure to spend the next 5 minutes of the ride to the next station in the corner ranting and yelling about how we’re all fucking assholes and how we’re killing you and you can’t believe that no one would lend you their phone for like 10 seconds so you can call your fucking mom because she fucking has your fucking dog and she'll be fucking late if you don't fucking call her right now because you fucking can't come get your fucking dog because fuckity fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck look at Fucky go.
annnd rest. -.-
, but the whole OMG PANTS! person you had to deal with? 
A great pick-me-up this morning, thank you!
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