Why me? Jesus...
Whoooooa....
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “Whhhhyyyy, yesss.”
Oh wow. This guy is incredibly stoned. He sounds like Keanu Reeves doing Jack Nicholson. ( My manager didn't believe me, so I told her to listen to the call recording. She made it 20 seconds in before she burst out laughing and said she never would have made it through this call. >.> )
Me: “Which catalog will be ordering from?”
SC: “The summer'n...2009, yeeaaah.”
Me: “Ok, and the item number please?”
SC: “1…I mean 4. 1…..11. See er?!’”
Me: “Ok, anything else?”
SC: “Uhhhh….yeah….can get 44.....55.....66!”
Me:“Sorry, but I don’t have that in stock right now.”
SC: "Really? Ooooh sheeeeeeeeeeeenap! Well let’s hold up.”
Yes, oooh sheeeeenap. A variant of “Oh snap!” that primarily occurs when one lives near a grow op.
Me: “….”
SC: “I’ll get 0…flive..33…3!”
Yes, he said flive.
Me: “0333?”
SC: “Yeeeaaaaaaah.”
Me: “I only have that in size 36.”
SC: “Awwwww shnaps! Do you have anything in 38s?”
Me: “I don’t have that in 38, sorry.”
SC: “Ooooh shiiiiiieeeeeeeeeAT! Uhhhh, I’ll just get uhhh….hmmmmm…….uh”
Mouth a bit dry there, Cheech?
SC: “I’ll get 11....11....1?”
Me: “Ok, anything else?”
SC: “Nah, that be all, brooo.”
That’s probably for the best. I’m sure There’s a Costco sized bag of Pizza Craver Doritos somewhere in the house with your name on it. Literally. As in scribbled onto it with a post-it note and a Bohemian Orange crayon just so all the bad vibes know it belongs to you and stay away from it, man.
Me: “Alright, that will come to xxx.xx and should arrive in about two weeks.”
SC: “Mhmmmmm, sound’s gooooooooood.”
See, I’ve already lost him to the Doritos. There’s no way that I, or even pants, can compete at this point.
Patriotism
Me: "I'm afraid thats not considered an emergency, so I can't help you with it at this hour."
SC: "Aw come on man, we're countrymen! We gotta stick together up here in Canada. Help a guy out?"
...we are? Its true you're calling a Canadian branch of an American company, but it doesn't actually import Americans to keep the company pure.
SC: “Oh well thank GOD for our country. You’ve been very helpful. Bye.”
I suppose that was a weak attempt at a sarcastic parting shot. However, I am Canadian. So it is not our country but rather your country. I’m guessing you were trying to inflict some sort of damage upon my patriotism as a Real American™. However, you attempted to use Thunderbolt on the Squirtle of my patriotism, when in fact, my patriotism is a Pikachu and thus it was not very effective.
Linguistics
If the only words of English you know are “It is very emergency” than you’re going to be living with your very emergency for some time until I can figure out just what the fuck is going on.
Alright than
SC: “Yeah, his girlfriend, or whatever you want to call her.”
Whatever I want to call her? Why do you seek my opinion on this matter? Surely you must already have a name, title or perhaps term you refer to her by? Even if it is not the most favourable of monikers. But, I suppose if you insist and truly require my input? Very well than, his girlfriend shall thus forth be known as Punky Brewster.
If she's a stripper or a barista, I apologize in advance.
Dubious Breeding
It seems my entire trip to work this evening was spent surrounded by ladies of dubious breeding. Right from the get go too. When I arrived at the bus stop, there was a guy sitting there with his Lady. And this female specimen was….rough to say the least. Very rough. She also had a voice one could normally only achieve by, say, gargling cat litter. When the bus arrived, she hugged her male compatriot and told him that if he wanted to see her again he could usually find her on a corner along Cordova street in east van. Though she did not explicitly state the exact fee for her services, it was implied that they were quite reasonable.
Than when I boarded my Sky Chariot….a similarly…rough woman boarded a few stops down. Even rougher than the first one. This one too appeared to be exchanging parting pleasantries with a….customer….while she desperately sucked on a cigarette like it was the font of youth. Trying to pull every last bit of tar goodness out of it before the doors closed, forcing her to toss it away. Although it didn’t stop the cloud from following her onboard.
I won’t go into particularly gruesome detail about her visual...impact. Suffice it to say that it’s a look you could only achieve through a combination of beer, meth and colour blindness. Nothing matched, nothing fit ( Thus an inordinate amount of flesh was on unsettling display ) and all of this Venus like beauty mixed with the fair scent of stale cigarettes and pork.
Though that wasn’t the particularly horrific part. That came around Broadway station when some guy got on, than began hitting on her. It was….surreal. Like watching someone try to work his mojo on the Swamp Thing.
If you're that desperate buddy, lemme give you a little tip if you want to score with this particular female. Reach into your pocket and jingle your change.
Shame
If I ever spent $300 and only had two pairs of pants to show for it, I’d probably be too ashamed to leave the house wearing them. I’d just stay at home in my underwear, acutely aware of my pathetic existence and burying my sorrows in Pizza Craver Doritos. Really, I can’t quite wrap my head around dropping $150 on a pair of jeans. If I paid $150 for a pair of jeans they better unzip themselves when I go to the washroom and have their own ear mounted cooling fan to prevent summer swamp ass. Otherwise I’m not sure I could bear the humiliation of my questionable financial decision making.
It’d be enough to make me move just in case my friends or neighbour’s found out. I’d have to get somewhere, far away from civilization where no one knew me or the terrible foolishness I had wrought. Some place quiet and barren, where few others dwelled. Like some place far far up north.
…..hey, wait a minute…….
This City Has Its Moments
So, er, on my way here I encountered what appeared to be a group of pirates. They were hoisting what appeared to be a Stanley Cup. One of them was even carrying a stereo playing the Pirates of the Caribbean theme. Honestly, it was rather awesome and I can level no fault at this briny group of hockey enthused scallywags.
Way Off Mark
Me: “Good morning, <my company's main corporate line>, how may I help you?”
SC: “Hi, yeah, I got this number from Tacobell.”
Right, yes, you definitely have the wrong number. I can’t think of a single plausible scenario for why Tacobell would give you our phone number. I just can’t picture you sitting there, waiting for the counter guy to finish bagging your Double Taco Supreme Bowel Annihilator Grande meal, complaining to yourself about how you really need a call centre but you just can’t afford one. If only there was some way to obtain inbound call services without having to set up your own call centre? At which point the Taco packer behind the counter looked up and went “Oh, like I totally know some people that do that dude” and slipped you our phone number.
Way to Go
If you’re going to set up a grow op in your house, you might want to have the house inspected first to make sure the wiring is up to snuff. Because I imagine its rather ironic, if not down right embarrassing, to have your grow op discovered by the fire department after your fuse box shorts out. Although, I imagine by the time the fire department fought through the smoke and got the blaze under control they were pretty easy going about the whole thing.
....Cats....
I made the mistake of touching the cat right before I left for work. So now I look like someone hid an IED in a Tribble and I dived on top of it to save my platoon.
My Fractured Pysche
SC: “Ya I called HALF AN HOUR AGO ago for a technician and no one’s called me back yet!!!!!.”
Me: “….alright, who is this?”
SC: “This is Bob from <company> again”
Me: “It’s only been 5 minutes since you called.”
SC: “......Oh.”
Now, oddly enough this didn’t seem to be a case of my original suckhole time dilation theory. It sounded more like he thought I was a different operator entirely and was exaggerating in an attempt to dupe this fictional operator into escalating the speed of his call back. Sadly, this plan is rift with multiple levels of failure and had zero chance of success. Mainly, there are 3 key roadblocks preventing its success:
1) I’m not a different operator. There are no different operators here. It’s just me, myself and I. If you do manage to get a different operator calling at this hour, I’m afraid that’s technically still me it’s just that a different personality has managed to wrest control briefly. Such as the oft lamented Oberon. Don’t worry, once he realizes he’s stuck by himself in a call centre at 3am being forced to talk to people like you, he’ll give up the helm fairly quick.
Susie though, she tends to hold on for a while. She’s a bit of a flirt too, so watch yourself.
2) Everything is time stamped. Even if you managed to score the sympathy card on Oberon or Susie, they’re both capable of reading a time stamp. So your plan still would have failed upon investigation of your claims.
3) Even if somehow you got a different persona-er operator, and they missed the timestamp, there ironically isn’t any way to escalate calls on this account anyhow. So this whole little trip of yours was a doomed voyage from the onset.
I Believe Thats What I Said, Yes
Me: “That should take about 2 weeks to arrive.”
SC: “So…..it'll be here in around 2 weeks?”
Yes….2 weeks from now. I believe that was my statement. I suppose I can’t be 100%, undeniably sure. There’s always a minut possibility that some sort of temporal rift or dimensional hiccup occurred at exactly that moment, disrupting the fabric of reality around me and making me utter the phrase “Hey! Guess how long it’ll take?! Go on, guess! If you get it right I’ll give you a cookie.”. But I find this highly unlikely. Because if I had a cookie, I would be gleefully nibbling on its crumbly delicious outer circumference and I would not be sharing it with the likes of you.
Than....?
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “No.”
Me: “……..?”
SC: “……..”
Do you even know why you’re calling than? I require a statement of intent if I am to process your requests. I’m afraid that this statement is entirely up to you, and I cannot help you in any way. The ball is in your court now. The fox is in your rabbit warren. The men’s size 7-10 socks have been placed in your 50% off discount bin. The trace amounts of ebola have been discovered in your broccoli. The rabid weasel is desperately trying to seek refuge in the open fly of your jeans.
Everything rests on you, now young padawan. Don't disappoint me.
No One Could Possibly Stop Him
SC: “Every night they are making nightmares for my family!!”
The…..who and the what now? Who is? Is it gremlins? Because I can’t help you with gremlins. Gremlins are strictly non-urgent afterhours so you’ll be on your own till Monday morning.
SC: “Every night the music so loud!”
Wait, music? This is a noise complaint? The music is giving your family nightmares? I can see the music keeping them awake, but nightmares? I don’t understand how its giving you nightmares, unless he’s playing Kenny G or something. That might do the trick.
SC: “WHO CAN PROTECT ME AND MY FAMILY!?”
Protect you and your family? What, from Kenny G? Umm….I’m not to sure, to be honest. I mean, he can play the flute and he does have a man perm. So he must wield incredible power. There may not be a force powerful enough on this earth to fend him off should he ever truly choose to destroy us. I for one would not cross him or raise his ire if I were you. We’re only safe as long as we pretend to actually like his music. There’s no telling he’ll react if you learns you tried to stop your neighbour from playing it.
You may very well bring about the end of civilization as we know it, to the soothing tones of an altosax.
Yeah...no.
SC: “Oh and you might want to get your phone checked, it doesn’t work worth a damn!”
Actually, that would be your phone. Seeing as I have fielded 113 calls this evening so far and yours is the only one where there was any difficulty communicating. The chances of it actually being my headset are below 1%. The overwhelming probability indicates that it is in fact your phone that is the culprit. Do not blame this on my headset. My headset has been good to me. It has been a faithful servant to my dark machinations and even smells kind of like my cat….something…which I can’t actually explain. But none the less! My headset is beyond reproach.
I'll Be Over Here if you Need Me
Me: “And your last name please?”
SC: “AZREDISDOLINI”
Me: “....How do you spell that?”
SC: "A as in....apple. Z as in Zenra-"
You’re not….really going to do that for the entire thing are you? Seriously?
SC: “R as in...um...Robert. E as in Edward. D as in....ummmm“
No offense, but I kind of have other things to do, you know.
SC: “I as in….Italy? S as in Sam-“
Ok, seriously, look. I’ll be back in about 10-15 minutes or so to check and see if you’re done yet, ok? Don’t worry, just keep on truckin’ there. You seem to be quite focused on this, so I don’t really want to interrupt you as I might hurt your fragile self esteem. So just carry on and I’ll check back periodically to see if you’ve finished yet. Alright?
Purples
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “Ya, do you have the extra large hoodie?”
We have quite a few hoodies that come in that particular size. In fact I believe all of them do. But I don’t believe any of them are the extra large hoodie. They’re all an extra large hoodie. The Extra Large Hoodie likely isn’t amongst our stock. It sounds like a unique item, so it’s probably a rare drop off a raid boss. Likely a set piece at that. To go with the Extra Large Camo Lace Miniskirt and Extra Large Baby Pink Trucker’s Cap. I mean the whole set probably has some worthy set bonuses. It must have at least +30 Skull Thickness on it and extend the radius of stale cheese smell by 10 feet.
But like I said, it’s probably a boss drop. So it might be a tad more difficult to obtain than you thought. See, boss monsters are the biggest, nastiest most challenging beasts in any given zone. So if you really want any of these items, you’re likely going to have to challenge and slay one of these beasts so it’ll drop. But first things first. You want to go into this prepared. So what you want to do is get yourself geared up: Put on pants, wear a thick sweater, throw on some boots, get yourself a stick and find something to protect your face. Like a hockey mask or a traffic cone. You’ll also probably need a few heal potions and mana potions. Though I suppose beer will suffice and is much more readily available in your house.
Good, good, now you’re ready.
As I said, boss monsters are the biggest, meanest creatures around. So what you want to do is wander out alone onto the barren ice flows that are undoubtedly mere steps from your house, don’t bring a party with you, they’ll just cut into your exp and may ninja any loot that drops. Now what you want to do is find the biggest, angriest, most rabid polar bear you can find. ( Alternatively, let it find you ). Boss monsters usually have some sort of unique distinguishing feature that sets it apart from all the common lower level polar bears. So you’ll want to keep an eye out for something like that. Like a scar over one eye, or a different colour fur such as red or green, or a talking one wearing platemail armour with a little girl riding it.
That’s probably this zone’s boss monster. You’ll want to pull it and get aggro to make sure you get kill credit. All things considered, this should be remarkably easy. So good luck. Your Extra Large Hoodie is just a terror filled battle for your life desperately trying to fend off hundreds of pounds of murderous furry land tank away.
YOU FAT BASTARD
Argh! I was waiting for my bus this morning, quietly minded my own business....when I heard a familiar voice bellowing in the distance. Than the waddling silhouette of some sort of man beast approached...it was oddly familiar.........aw Jesus, its fucking FAT DAVE AGAIN. What the hell!? This is the 3rd god damn time I've encountered this utter loser.
"Hey can anyone spare me like a buck or two for the Skytrain?!"
You pathetic, obnoxious jiggling sack of bacon fat. You're doing this AGAIN? Going around trying to bum money off everyone for the Skytrain that you just got off of!? Were you not content with how much of a gaping greased cornhole on the back end of society you were last time? Oh, and the time before that? You cheap fuck, you're wearing $600 worth of designer label "gangsta" clothing....again, and you have the nerve to go around bumming change off people? In the rudeness way possible? Is this a daily thing for you?
Seriously, you'd think if you were trying to bum a buck or two off someone to help you out of a transit bind you'd be grovellingly polite. But no, not this asshole. There was one guy near me playing a PSP with his headphones on. Ol' Fat Dave rhino'd his way over to him and went:
"Hey.....hey.......hey! Hey bro! HEY!"
But of course the guy has headphones on so he doesn't hear him, and he has his head down looking at his PSP. So what does our resident moist fuckbag do?
"HEY! HEY BRO! HEY!" while waving his hands in front of the guys face between the guy's face and his PSP. Luckily for Fat Dave, the poor guy seemed utterly stunned anyone could be this rude and didn't even think to get angry.
So what does Dave do? Waddles away and gets back on the Skytrain. You know, the Skytrain he doesn't have enough money for? Yeah.
Asshole.
Argh, ok, enough for now. God, I think I only got half way through the amount of misery this week so far. But I don't think I can continue without degrading into particularly bitter vitriol.
Whoooooa....
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “Whhhhyyyy, yesss.”
Oh wow. This guy is incredibly stoned. He sounds like Keanu Reeves doing Jack Nicholson. ( My manager didn't believe me, so I told her to listen to the call recording. She made it 20 seconds in before she burst out laughing and said she never would have made it through this call. >.> )
Me: “Which catalog will be ordering from?”
SC: “The summer'n...2009, yeeaaah.”
Me: “Ok, and the item number please?”
SC: “1…I mean 4. 1…..11. See er?!’”
Me: “Ok, anything else?”
SC: “Uhhhh….yeah….can get 44.....55.....66!”
Me:“Sorry, but I don’t have that in stock right now.”
SC: "Really? Ooooh sheeeeeeeeeeeenap! Well let’s hold up.”
Yes, oooh sheeeeenap. A variant of “Oh snap!” that primarily occurs when one lives near a grow op.
Me: “….”
SC: “I’ll get 0…flive..33…3!”
Yes, he said flive.
Me: “0333?”
SC: “Yeeeaaaaaaah.”
Me: “I only have that in size 36.”
SC: “Awwwww shnaps! Do you have anything in 38s?”
Me: “I don’t have that in 38, sorry.”
SC: “Ooooh shiiiiiieeeeeeeeeAT! Uhhhh, I’ll just get uhhh….hmmmmm…….uh”
Mouth a bit dry there, Cheech?
SC: “I’ll get 11....11....1?”
Me: “Ok, anything else?”
SC: “Nah, that be all, brooo.”
That’s probably for the best. I’m sure There’s a Costco sized bag of Pizza Craver Doritos somewhere in the house with your name on it. Literally. As in scribbled onto it with a post-it note and a Bohemian Orange crayon just so all the bad vibes know it belongs to you and stay away from it, man.
Me: “Alright, that will come to xxx.xx and should arrive in about two weeks.”
SC: “Mhmmmmm, sound’s gooooooooood.”
See, I’ve already lost him to the Doritos. There’s no way that I, or even pants, can compete at this point.
Patriotism
Me: "I'm afraid thats not considered an emergency, so I can't help you with it at this hour."
SC: "Aw come on man, we're countrymen! We gotta stick together up here in Canada. Help a guy out?"
...we are? Its true you're calling a Canadian branch of an American company, but it doesn't actually import Americans to keep the company pure.
SC: “Oh well thank GOD for our country. You’ve been very helpful. Bye.”
I suppose that was a weak attempt at a sarcastic parting shot. However, I am Canadian. So it is not our country but rather your country. I’m guessing you were trying to inflict some sort of damage upon my patriotism as a Real American™. However, you attempted to use Thunderbolt on the Squirtle of my patriotism, when in fact, my patriotism is a Pikachu and thus it was not very effective.
Linguistics
If the only words of English you know are “It is very emergency” than you’re going to be living with your very emergency for some time until I can figure out just what the fuck is going on.
Alright than
SC: “Yeah, his girlfriend, or whatever you want to call her.”
Whatever I want to call her? Why do you seek my opinion on this matter? Surely you must already have a name, title or perhaps term you refer to her by? Even if it is not the most favourable of monikers. But, I suppose if you insist and truly require my input? Very well than, his girlfriend shall thus forth be known as Punky Brewster.
If she's a stripper or a barista, I apologize in advance.
Dubious Breeding
It seems my entire trip to work this evening was spent surrounded by ladies of dubious breeding. Right from the get go too. When I arrived at the bus stop, there was a guy sitting there with his Lady. And this female specimen was….rough to say the least. Very rough. She also had a voice one could normally only achieve by, say, gargling cat litter. When the bus arrived, she hugged her male compatriot and told him that if he wanted to see her again he could usually find her on a corner along Cordova street in east van. Though she did not explicitly state the exact fee for her services, it was implied that they were quite reasonable.
Than when I boarded my Sky Chariot….a similarly…rough woman boarded a few stops down. Even rougher than the first one. This one too appeared to be exchanging parting pleasantries with a….customer….while she desperately sucked on a cigarette like it was the font of youth. Trying to pull every last bit of tar goodness out of it before the doors closed, forcing her to toss it away. Although it didn’t stop the cloud from following her onboard.
I won’t go into particularly gruesome detail about her visual...impact. Suffice it to say that it’s a look you could only achieve through a combination of beer, meth and colour blindness. Nothing matched, nothing fit ( Thus an inordinate amount of flesh was on unsettling display ) and all of this Venus like beauty mixed with the fair scent of stale cigarettes and pork.
Though that wasn’t the particularly horrific part. That came around Broadway station when some guy got on, than began hitting on her. It was….surreal. Like watching someone try to work his mojo on the Swamp Thing.
If you're that desperate buddy, lemme give you a little tip if you want to score with this particular female. Reach into your pocket and jingle your change.
Shame
If I ever spent $300 and only had two pairs of pants to show for it, I’d probably be too ashamed to leave the house wearing them. I’d just stay at home in my underwear, acutely aware of my pathetic existence and burying my sorrows in Pizza Craver Doritos. Really, I can’t quite wrap my head around dropping $150 on a pair of jeans. If I paid $150 for a pair of jeans they better unzip themselves when I go to the washroom and have their own ear mounted cooling fan to prevent summer swamp ass. Otherwise I’m not sure I could bear the humiliation of my questionable financial decision making.
It’d be enough to make me move just in case my friends or neighbour’s found out. I’d have to get somewhere, far away from civilization where no one knew me or the terrible foolishness I had wrought. Some place quiet and barren, where few others dwelled. Like some place far far up north.
…..hey, wait a minute…….
This City Has Its Moments
So, er, on my way here I encountered what appeared to be a group of pirates. They were hoisting what appeared to be a Stanley Cup. One of them was even carrying a stereo playing the Pirates of the Caribbean theme. Honestly, it was rather awesome and I can level no fault at this briny group of hockey enthused scallywags.
Way Off Mark
Me: “Good morning, <my company's main corporate line>, how may I help you?”
SC: “Hi, yeah, I got this number from Tacobell.”
Right, yes, you definitely have the wrong number. I can’t think of a single plausible scenario for why Tacobell would give you our phone number. I just can’t picture you sitting there, waiting for the counter guy to finish bagging your Double Taco Supreme Bowel Annihilator Grande meal, complaining to yourself about how you really need a call centre but you just can’t afford one. If only there was some way to obtain inbound call services without having to set up your own call centre? At which point the Taco packer behind the counter looked up and went “Oh, like I totally know some people that do that dude” and slipped you our phone number.
Way to Go
If you’re going to set up a grow op in your house, you might want to have the house inspected first to make sure the wiring is up to snuff. Because I imagine its rather ironic, if not down right embarrassing, to have your grow op discovered by the fire department after your fuse box shorts out. Although, I imagine by the time the fire department fought through the smoke and got the blaze under control they were pretty easy going about the whole thing.
....Cats....
I made the mistake of touching the cat right before I left for work. So now I look like someone hid an IED in a Tribble and I dived on top of it to save my platoon.
My Fractured Pysche
SC: “Ya I called HALF AN HOUR AGO ago for a technician and no one’s called me back yet!!!!!.”
Me: “….alright, who is this?”
SC: “This is Bob from <company> again”
Me: “It’s only been 5 minutes since you called.”
SC: “......Oh.”
Now, oddly enough this didn’t seem to be a case of my original suckhole time dilation theory. It sounded more like he thought I was a different operator entirely and was exaggerating in an attempt to dupe this fictional operator into escalating the speed of his call back. Sadly, this plan is rift with multiple levels of failure and had zero chance of success. Mainly, there are 3 key roadblocks preventing its success:
1) I’m not a different operator. There are no different operators here. It’s just me, myself and I. If you do manage to get a different operator calling at this hour, I’m afraid that’s technically still me it’s just that a different personality has managed to wrest control briefly. Such as the oft lamented Oberon. Don’t worry, once he realizes he’s stuck by himself in a call centre at 3am being forced to talk to people like you, he’ll give up the helm fairly quick.
Susie though, she tends to hold on for a while. She’s a bit of a flirt too, so watch yourself.
2) Everything is time stamped. Even if you managed to score the sympathy card on Oberon or Susie, they’re both capable of reading a time stamp. So your plan still would have failed upon investigation of your claims.
3) Even if somehow you got a different persona-er operator, and they missed the timestamp, there ironically isn’t any way to escalate calls on this account anyhow. So this whole little trip of yours was a doomed voyage from the onset.
I Believe Thats What I Said, Yes
Me: “That should take about 2 weeks to arrive.”
SC: “So…..it'll be here in around 2 weeks?”
Yes….2 weeks from now. I believe that was my statement. I suppose I can’t be 100%, undeniably sure. There’s always a minut possibility that some sort of temporal rift or dimensional hiccup occurred at exactly that moment, disrupting the fabric of reality around me and making me utter the phrase “Hey! Guess how long it’ll take?! Go on, guess! If you get it right I’ll give you a cookie.”. But I find this highly unlikely. Because if I had a cookie, I would be gleefully nibbling on its crumbly delicious outer circumference and I would not be sharing it with the likes of you.
Than....?
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “No.”
Me: “……..?”
SC: “……..”
Do you even know why you’re calling than? I require a statement of intent if I am to process your requests. I’m afraid that this statement is entirely up to you, and I cannot help you in any way. The ball is in your court now. The fox is in your rabbit warren. The men’s size 7-10 socks have been placed in your 50% off discount bin. The trace amounts of ebola have been discovered in your broccoli. The rabid weasel is desperately trying to seek refuge in the open fly of your jeans.
Everything rests on you, now young padawan. Don't disappoint me.
No One Could Possibly Stop Him
SC: “Every night they are making nightmares for my family!!”
The…..who and the what now? Who is? Is it gremlins? Because I can’t help you with gremlins. Gremlins are strictly non-urgent afterhours so you’ll be on your own till Monday morning.
SC: “Every night the music so loud!”
Wait, music? This is a noise complaint? The music is giving your family nightmares? I can see the music keeping them awake, but nightmares? I don’t understand how its giving you nightmares, unless he’s playing Kenny G or something. That might do the trick.
SC: “WHO CAN PROTECT ME AND MY FAMILY!?”
Protect you and your family? What, from Kenny G? Umm….I’m not to sure, to be honest. I mean, he can play the flute and he does have a man perm. So he must wield incredible power. There may not be a force powerful enough on this earth to fend him off should he ever truly choose to destroy us. I for one would not cross him or raise his ire if I were you. We’re only safe as long as we pretend to actually like his music. There’s no telling he’ll react if you learns you tried to stop your neighbour from playing it.
You may very well bring about the end of civilization as we know it, to the soothing tones of an altosax.
Yeah...no.
SC: “Oh and you might want to get your phone checked, it doesn’t work worth a damn!”
Actually, that would be your phone. Seeing as I have fielded 113 calls this evening so far and yours is the only one where there was any difficulty communicating. The chances of it actually being my headset are below 1%. The overwhelming probability indicates that it is in fact your phone that is the culprit. Do not blame this on my headset. My headset has been good to me. It has been a faithful servant to my dark machinations and even smells kind of like my cat….something…which I can’t actually explain. But none the less! My headset is beyond reproach.
I'll Be Over Here if you Need Me
Me: “And your last name please?”
SC: “AZREDISDOLINI”
Me: “....How do you spell that?”
SC: "A as in....apple. Z as in Zenra-"
You’re not….really going to do that for the entire thing are you? Seriously?
SC: “R as in...um...Robert. E as in Edward. D as in....ummmm“
No offense, but I kind of have other things to do, you know.
SC: “I as in….Italy? S as in Sam-“
Ok, seriously, look. I’ll be back in about 10-15 minutes or so to check and see if you’re done yet, ok? Don’t worry, just keep on truckin’ there. You seem to be quite focused on this, so I don’t really want to interrupt you as I might hurt your fragile self esteem. So just carry on and I’ll check back periodically to see if you’ve finished yet. Alright?
Purples
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “Ya, do you have the extra large hoodie?”
We have quite a few hoodies that come in that particular size. In fact I believe all of them do. But I don’t believe any of them are the extra large hoodie. They’re all an extra large hoodie. The Extra Large Hoodie likely isn’t amongst our stock. It sounds like a unique item, so it’s probably a rare drop off a raid boss. Likely a set piece at that. To go with the Extra Large Camo Lace Miniskirt and Extra Large Baby Pink Trucker’s Cap. I mean the whole set probably has some worthy set bonuses. It must have at least +30 Skull Thickness on it and extend the radius of stale cheese smell by 10 feet.
But like I said, it’s probably a boss drop. So it might be a tad more difficult to obtain than you thought. See, boss monsters are the biggest, nastiest most challenging beasts in any given zone. So if you really want any of these items, you’re likely going to have to challenge and slay one of these beasts so it’ll drop. But first things first. You want to go into this prepared. So what you want to do is get yourself geared up: Put on pants, wear a thick sweater, throw on some boots, get yourself a stick and find something to protect your face. Like a hockey mask or a traffic cone. You’ll also probably need a few heal potions and mana potions. Though I suppose beer will suffice and is much more readily available in your house.
Good, good, now you’re ready.
As I said, boss monsters are the biggest, meanest creatures around. So what you want to do is wander out alone onto the barren ice flows that are undoubtedly mere steps from your house, don’t bring a party with you, they’ll just cut into your exp and may ninja any loot that drops. Now what you want to do is find the biggest, angriest, most rabid polar bear you can find. ( Alternatively, let it find you ). Boss monsters usually have some sort of unique distinguishing feature that sets it apart from all the common lower level polar bears. So you’ll want to keep an eye out for something like that. Like a scar over one eye, or a different colour fur such as red or green, or a talking one wearing platemail armour with a little girl riding it.
That’s probably this zone’s boss monster. You’ll want to pull it and get aggro to make sure you get kill credit. All things considered, this should be remarkably easy. So good luck. Your Extra Large Hoodie is just a terror filled battle for your life desperately trying to fend off hundreds of pounds of murderous furry land tank away.
YOU FAT BASTARD
Argh! I was waiting for my bus this morning, quietly minded my own business....when I heard a familiar voice bellowing in the distance. Than the waddling silhouette of some sort of man beast approached...it was oddly familiar.........aw Jesus, its fucking FAT DAVE AGAIN. What the hell!? This is the 3rd god damn time I've encountered this utter loser.
"Hey can anyone spare me like a buck or two for the Skytrain?!"
You pathetic, obnoxious jiggling sack of bacon fat. You're doing this AGAIN? Going around trying to bum money off everyone for the Skytrain that you just got off of!? Were you not content with how much of a gaping greased cornhole on the back end of society you were last time? Oh, and the time before that? You cheap fuck, you're wearing $600 worth of designer label "gangsta" clothing....again, and you have the nerve to go around bumming change off people? In the rudeness way possible? Is this a daily thing for you?
Seriously, you'd think if you were trying to bum a buck or two off someone to help you out of a transit bind you'd be grovellingly polite. But no, not this asshole. There was one guy near me playing a PSP with his headphones on. Ol' Fat Dave rhino'd his way over to him and went:
"Hey.....hey.......hey! Hey bro! HEY!"
But of course the guy has headphones on so he doesn't hear him, and he has his head down looking at his PSP. So what does our resident moist fuckbag do?
"HEY! HEY BRO! HEY!" while waving his hands in front of the guys face between the guy's face and his PSP. Luckily for Fat Dave, the poor guy seemed utterly stunned anyone could be this rude and didn't even think to get angry.
So what does Dave do? Waddles away and gets back on the Skytrain. You know, the Skytrain he doesn't have enough money for? Yeah.
Asshole.
Argh, ok, enough for now. God, I think I only got half way through the amount of misery this week so far. But I don't think I can continue without degrading into particularly bitter vitriol.




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