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Wherein I Reduce A Caller To Tears
Bet you can't guess over what =p
I am also now officially on vacation, so this marks the beginning of a week long hiatus where I will do nothing but sit at home laying on the couch making odd noises. While the cat attempts to badger me into feeding her.
Naturally
SC: “NEIGHBOURS ARE TOO NOISY I DON’T KNOW IF HE’S DRINKING OR WHATEVER BUT IT’S TOO NOISY AND THAT’S WHY I’M PHONING!!!!”
So your neighbour is being too loud in the middle of the night…..and your selected course of action is to scream loudly about it in the middle of the night? There’s a certain irony in this, you know. I can only hope that one day you too will learn to recognize and appreciate it. Perhaps a few days from now, it will finally dawn on you and you’ll sit upright in bed and think “Oh wow, that was pretty stupid of me, wasn’t it?”. If and when that moment occurs, please feel free to call back and apologize for your spittle laden ironic hypocrisy. If you are too embarrassed to do so, that’s alright. You may simply send an apology card or perhaps a nice bouquet or some chocolates. Don’t cheap out on them though. I warn you, we do not take kindly to dollar store chocolate.
And make sure you at least get us a Hallmark card, you cheapskate.
You Overestimate Me
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “Do you still have those shoes?”
“Those shoes”? There seems to be a key component missing from your question. As it makes little sense in its present form. Perhaps if you had phrased it as “Oh, hello, are you Madame Cleo? Perhaps you could use your vast supernatural powers to tell me whether or not you still have those shoes?” then it would make more sense. At which point I could simply go “Sorry, I am a mundane human being incapable of pulling wisdom from the ether, which shoes are you referring too?”. Then we could both have a laugh and get on with things as if I wasn’t psychic and you weren’t an idiot.
Sadly, the truth is I’m not a psychic and you are an idiot. So that particular fairy tale ending will never be. For reference, there are 35 items within the catalog that are classified as “shoes”. You will have to be more specific.
Me: “Do you have the item number?”
SC: “It’s xxxx”
Me: “I’m afraid I don’t have any product listed by that number.”
SC: “Oh, well do you have anything similar?”
Again, not Madame Cleo. It is somewhat difficult to recommend an item similar to an item that does not exist. Well, actually, come to think of it, perhaps not. I mean, if you’re asking what’s similar to nothing then I would totally recommend nothing. Heck, you’re probably surrounded by nothing right now. In fact the inside of your head must be just packed with nothing. So you don’t need to order any nothing anyway. You’ve got plenty of nothing already and you didn’t even know it!
This must be like Christmas and your Birthday all rolled into one.
Hordes of the Underdark
My normally quiet, pleasant nap filled voyage to work this evening was cruelly interrupted by a powerful foe I do not normally face on transit after dark: Children. A massive, seething gremlin like horde of children. I don’t know if they were a class, or a troop or perhaps a gaggle. But they invaded the train in a shrieking mass. Followed by one lone chaperon who had obviously spent far far too much time with them already today. His dull, lifeless eyes barely registered the outside world. He could only occasionally rouse enough of his broken will to make an attempt at controlling his charges. But attempts at directing the group in any way shape or form would inevitably devolve into a torrent of profanity by the third sentence. Of which the shrieklings paid no heed. This caused him to sink even further into profane despair until he hit a level of language that would make even Dennis Leary go “Whoa, dude, easy.”
By Broadway, people were actively avoiding the train when it pulled up and they realized its contents. They’d scurry away to the cars before and after the one I was on. Glancing through the window until they made eye contact. Then they’d turn away with a look of shame on their face and try to scurry out of view. As if ashamed that they were abandoning their fellow human beings to the fend for themselves. The image of my panicked visage pressed up against the Skytrain window, silently pleading for help, will undoubtedly haunt their dreams for weeks to come.
Payment Systems
SC: “Can you do me a favour?”
I’m afraid we work on a strictly currency payment system. Our technicians accept cash, cheque and credit. But cannot accept return favours, promises, vows or miscellaneous livestock as payment for services rendered. Discounts may be provided at the discretion of a service technician if presented with hospitable behaviour, politeness, cookies, cold refreshments or the phone number of an attractive sibling or cousin. Though note that <client> does not officially promote, endorse nor uphold these discounts in writing and they may become void if cookies are stale, refreshments are served warm and/or flat or if you are related to the Swamp Thing.
Alllright
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “I wanna play.”
Far be it for me to put a downer on your enthusiasm, but might I make a small suggestion? I realize you are overcome with excitement at the prospect of ordering lottery tickets. So much so you apparently stayed up all night, unable to sleep due to the impending arrival of Lottery Santa and thus are calling at 4 in the morning. But there are better ways to express your excitement that sound a bit less….how do I put this? Slightly less serial killer like. Perhaps something like “Oh yes, I’d love to order tickets!” or “Oh good, you’re open!” or even “I’m really excited about this and I assure you the judged ruled I’m not a danger to the general public!”
Uhn Tiss Uhn Tiss
Me: “How may I help you?”
SC: “Uh, um, uh, um, uh, um, uh”
Are you confused or just beat boxing? Do you need me to provide you with some bass or a drum solo?
Of Course
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “Uh, where is Kirt’s order?”
Ah yes, of course. Kirt’s order. Once again, it falls upon me to explain something rather important to you and your ilk: You see, neither me, nor anyone here is part of your Monkey Sphere. We are not intimately familiar with you, your friends, your family nor your village of residence. Absolutely everyone else you may talk to you your day to day like may know exactly who Kirt is, that Kirt ordered and exactly what Kirt ordered. But we do not. So you’re going to have to be a tad more specific. Amazing as it is, there’s a whole world outside of your village and it is not intimately familiar with every detail of Kirt’s life. And if it was, I'm sure it would be horrified and feel the need to shower while desperately trying to scrub away said knowledge of Kirt's life.
911
SC: “There’s water on my kitchen floor! I need the police or the fire department or the ambulance or something!”
I’m sure all three of those vital emergency services would love to hear from you regarding your wet kitchen floor. In fact, feel free to hang up and attempt to contact them right now. I'm sure they will be thrilled. If they refuse to help, remember to be persistent. One way or another you'll have officers on your doorstep soon enough. Ready and willing to address the situation.
There's More Than One Holiday This Weekend
Fortunately, I was able to make it to the office before the fireworks ended and too much Canada got back out onto the streets. Unfortunately ( or fortunately for some ) ), it is also apparently officially Cannabis Day ( Seriously ) as well as Canada Day in Vancouver. Which would explain the predominant haze of what I believe the kids call “whacky weed” that I had to wade through to get here.
I fled the mists as quickly as possible, if only to save money on Dorotiso.
I Sense A Pattern
SC: “Is anybody in the office yet? Mark? Frank or anyone?”
Me: “I’m afraid no one is in until 8am.”
SC: “None of them are there drinking coffee or anything? Smoking weed?”
….No, none of them are in drinking coffee or smoking weed. Normally I would dismiss your comment as the inane ramblings of the typical nocturnal fools I contend with. However, you're actually part of the staff of said client's office staff. Which leads me to wonder if you don’t actually know something I don’t about your workplace that we do not. Such as that they may or may not subscribe to the Cheech & Chong school of business.
For Christ Sakes
Me: “Anything else?”
SC: “xxxx-xx”
Me: “I’m afraid I don’t have that in stock.”
SC: “You don’t have it?! <sniff> How about…uh….<sniff> xxxx <sniff>”
Wait....…Are you crying? There’s no crying in retail!
Me: “What size would you like?”
SC: “Oh, you got it? <sniff> No, I don’t wanna order that one <sniff>”
So, what? You just asked for it so you could get back at me for not having the last item? What do you want then? If you can hold yourself together long enough to ask for it, anyway. You’re losing composure over this at a rate normally reserved for a 5 year old girl that’s just realizing she accidently snapped the head off her favourite Barbie. Normally, I would offer some words of comfort and encouragement to try and get you through the trauma of placing an order. But who am I kidding? You’re shedding tears over pants. Nothing I can say can possibly fix whatever is wrong with your psyche at this point.
annnnnd rest.
I am also now officially on vacation, so this marks the beginning of a week long hiatus where I will do nothing but sit at home laying on the couch making odd noises. While the cat attempts to badger me into feeding her.
Naturally
SC: “NEIGHBOURS ARE TOO NOISY I DON’T KNOW IF HE’S DRINKING OR WHATEVER BUT IT’S TOO NOISY AND THAT’S WHY I’M PHONING!!!!”
So your neighbour is being too loud in the middle of the night…..and your selected course of action is to scream loudly about it in the middle of the night? There’s a certain irony in this, you know. I can only hope that one day you too will learn to recognize and appreciate it. Perhaps a few days from now, it will finally dawn on you and you’ll sit upright in bed and think “Oh wow, that was pretty stupid of me, wasn’t it?”. If and when that moment occurs, please feel free to call back and apologize for your spittle laden ironic hypocrisy. If you are too embarrassed to do so, that’s alright. You may simply send an apology card or perhaps a nice bouquet or some chocolates. Don’t cheap out on them though. I warn you, we do not take kindly to dollar store chocolate.
And make sure you at least get us a Hallmark card, you cheapskate.
You Overestimate Me
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “Do you still have those shoes?”
“Those shoes”? There seems to be a key component missing from your question. As it makes little sense in its present form. Perhaps if you had phrased it as “Oh, hello, are you Madame Cleo? Perhaps you could use your vast supernatural powers to tell me whether or not you still have those shoes?” then it would make more sense. At which point I could simply go “Sorry, I am a mundane human being incapable of pulling wisdom from the ether, which shoes are you referring too?”. Then we could both have a laugh and get on with things as if I wasn’t psychic and you weren’t an idiot.
Sadly, the truth is I’m not a psychic and you are an idiot. So that particular fairy tale ending will never be. For reference, there are 35 items within the catalog that are classified as “shoes”. You will have to be more specific.
Me: “Do you have the item number?”
SC: “It’s xxxx”
Me: “I’m afraid I don’t have any product listed by that number.”
SC: “Oh, well do you have anything similar?”
Again, not Madame Cleo. It is somewhat difficult to recommend an item similar to an item that does not exist. Well, actually, come to think of it, perhaps not. I mean, if you’re asking what’s similar to nothing then I would totally recommend nothing. Heck, you’re probably surrounded by nothing right now. In fact the inside of your head must be just packed with nothing. So you don’t need to order any nothing anyway. You’ve got plenty of nothing already and you didn’t even know it!
This must be like Christmas and your Birthday all rolled into one.
Hordes of the Underdark
My normally quiet, pleasant nap filled voyage to work this evening was cruelly interrupted by a powerful foe I do not normally face on transit after dark: Children. A massive, seething gremlin like horde of children. I don’t know if they were a class, or a troop or perhaps a gaggle. But they invaded the train in a shrieking mass. Followed by one lone chaperon who had obviously spent far far too much time with them already today. His dull, lifeless eyes barely registered the outside world. He could only occasionally rouse enough of his broken will to make an attempt at controlling his charges. But attempts at directing the group in any way shape or form would inevitably devolve into a torrent of profanity by the third sentence. Of which the shrieklings paid no heed. This caused him to sink even further into profane despair until he hit a level of language that would make even Dennis Leary go “Whoa, dude, easy.”
By Broadway, people were actively avoiding the train when it pulled up and they realized its contents. They’d scurry away to the cars before and after the one I was on. Glancing through the window until they made eye contact. Then they’d turn away with a look of shame on their face and try to scurry out of view. As if ashamed that they were abandoning their fellow human beings to the fend for themselves. The image of my panicked visage pressed up against the Skytrain window, silently pleading for help, will undoubtedly haunt their dreams for weeks to come.
Payment Systems
SC: “Can you do me a favour?”
I’m afraid we work on a strictly currency payment system. Our technicians accept cash, cheque and credit. But cannot accept return favours, promises, vows or miscellaneous livestock as payment for services rendered. Discounts may be provided at the discretion of a service technician if presented with hospitable behaviour, politeness, cookies, cold refreshments or the phone number of an attractive sibling or cousin. Though note that <client> does not officially promote, endorse nor uphold these discounts in writing and they may become void if cookies are stale, refreshments are served warm and/or flat or if you are related to the Swamp Thing.
Alllright
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “I wanna play.”
Far be it for me to put a downer on your enthusiasm, but might I make a small suggestion? I realize you are overcome with excitement at the prospect of ordering lottery tickets. So much so you apparently stayed up all night, unable to sleep due to the impending arrival of Lottery Santa and thus are calling at 4 in the morning. But there are better ways to express your excitement that sound a bit less….how do I put this? Slightly less serial killer like. Perhaps something like “Oh yes, I’d love to order tickets!” or “Oh good, you’re open!” or even “I’m really excited about this and I assure you the judged ruled I’m not a danger to the general public!”
Uhn Tiss Uhn Tiss
Me: “How may I help you?”
SC: “Uh, um, uh, um, uh, um, uh”
Are you confused or just beat boxing? Do you need me to provide you with some bass or a drum solo?
Of Course
Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
SC: “Uh, where is Kirt’s order?”
Ah yes, of course. Kirt’s order. Once again, it falls upon me to explain something rather important to you and your ilk: You see, neither me, nor anyone here is part of your Monkey Sphere. We are not intimately familiar with you, your friends, your family nor your village of residence. Absolutely everyone else you may talk to you your day to day like may know exactly who Kirt is, that Kirt ordered and exactly what Kirt ordered. But we do not. So you’re going to have to be a tad more specific. Amazing as it is, there’s a whole world outside of your village and it is not intimately familiar with every detail of Kirt’s life. And if it was, I'm sure it would be horrified and feel the need to shower while desperately trying to scrub away said knowledge of Kirt's life.
911
SC: “There’s water on my kitchen floor! I need the police or the fire department or the ambulance or something!”
I’m sure all three of those vital emergency services would love to hear from you regarding your wet kitchen floor. In fact, feel free to hang up and attempt to contact them right now. I'm sure they will be thrilled. If they refuse to help, remember to be persistent. One way or another you'll have officers on your doorstep soon enough. Ready and willing to address the situation.
There's More Than One Holiday This Weekend
Fortunately, I was able to make it to the office before the fireworks ended and too much Canada got back out onto the streets. Unfortunately ( or fortunately for some ) ), it is also apparently officially Cannabis Day ( Seriously ) as well as Canada Day in Vancouver. Which would explain the predominant haze of what I believe the kids call “whacky weed” that I had to wade through to get here.
I fled the mists as quickly as possible, if only to save money on Dorotiso.
I Sense A Pattern
SC: “Is anybody in the office yet? Mark? Frank or anyone?”
Me: “I’m afraid no one is in until 8am.”
SC: “None of them are there drinking coffee or anything? Smoking weed?”
….No, none of them are in drinking coffee or smoking weed. Normally I would dismiss your comment as the inane ramblings of the typical nocturnal fools I contend with. However, you're actually part of the staff of said client's office staff. Which leads me to wonder if you don’t actually know something I don’t about your workplace that we do not. Such as that they may or may not subscribe to the Cheech & Chong school of business.
For Christ Sakes
Me: “Anything else?”
SC: “xxxx-xx”
Me: “I’m afraid I don’t have that in stock.”
SC: “You don’t have it?! <sniff> How about…uh….<sniff> xxxx <sniff>”
Wait....…Are you crying? There’s no crying in retail!
Me: “What size would you like?”
SC: “Oh, you got it? <sniff> No, I don’t wanna order that one <sniff>”
So, what? You just asked for it so you could get back at me for not having the last item? What do you want then? If you can hold yourself together long enough to ask for it, anyway. You’re losing composure over this at a rate normally reserved for a 5 year old girl that’s just realizing she accidently snapped the head off her favourite Barbie. Normally, I would offer some words of comfort and encouragement to try and get you through the trauma of placing an order. But who am I kidding? You’re shedding tears over pants. Nothing I can say can possibly fix whatever is wrong with your psyche at this point.
annnnnd rest.
I AM the evil bastard!
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