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Stupid People and Other Natural Disasters

2004-01-07 - 4:53 a.m.

Just when you thought it was safe to pick up the phone . . .

RRZ: Good Morning, Generic Communications, how may I help you?

They lurk in the shadows . . .

Guy on the Phone: Uh, yeah, I was seeing if you could help me.

They prey on the innocent . . .

GotP: I'm looking to purchase a [Well known computer company famous for stupid commercials involving unctuous interns] desktop.

They do not know the meaning of mercy . . .

RRZ: I'm sorry, sir, we only resell [WKCC]'s to state and local government agencies.

Or, for that manner, the meaning of most polysyllabic words . . .

GotP: Well, but I really need one.



One of the best things about the holidays was the way things slowed down at work. There were fewer calls, fewer jobs, more time to write in this journal, among other things. Now, with the new year, things are picking up again and the phone lines twinkling red and green in an obnoxious reminder that Christmas will come again (although I do get to take down the Christmas decorations today, which will make me happy). Unfortunately, waiting for me in the phone lines like crocodiles in a mangrove forest are my old nemeses (I think that's the plural, as opposed to nemesises), Stupid People.

This one gave me a call today:

Woman on the Phone: Hello, I'm wondering if you can help me, I'm looking for a battery for a [WKCC] computer.

RRZ: I'm sorry ma'am, we only resell [WKCC] products to state and government agencies.

WotP: Oh, relly? Well, can you help me?

RRZ's Inner Jules from Pulp Fiction: WHAT DID I SAY? WHAT DID I JUST SAY, BITCH?

WotP: B-b-b-but you're customer service!

RRZ's IJfPF: Oh, I'm customer service am I? Well, bitch, how do you define a customer?

WotP: What?

RRZ's IJfPF: A what? a what? Is the definition of a customer? What don't sound like no definition of a customer I ever heard of? Do you say "Customer are you doing?" or "Customer's up, motherfucker?" Do you, bitch?

WotP: What?

RRZ's IJfPF: Say what again! SAY WHAT AGAIN!

WotP: What?

(RRZ's IJfPF fires a gun shot into the phone, the sound of which causes an aneurysm in WotP's brain, killing her instantly).

Actually, I said that I might be able to help her. She asked if I knew where she could find a battery and I recommended Mr. Notebook. It should have been easy from there, right.

I'm talking to a coworker who grabs the phone before I do (we race sometimes, because we have little better to do). I look at the caller ID.

It's the same woman. Back from the dead.

As my coworker tells her that we have not changed our policy within the past fifteen minutes, I pick my jaw up off the ground and proceed to deliver a rant about the general stupidity of the human race to anyone available. Then I go bang my head on my desk.

Even this, though, was nothing compared to the other day. I was talking to Shkbob on my cell phone when this call came in:

Woman on the Phone: Hello, do you have a lot of people working there?

This time, my brain just short-circuited. A number of responses came into my head.

"Well, ma'am, more than a Thundercloud subs and less that the State Capitol, how does that sound for you?"

"Madame . . . we are LEGION!"

"No, it's just me, and I've got 300 installs to do by tomorrow, so, later!"

"Now that you mention it, ma'am, everyone's walking out due to the major radiation leakage. Hope you haven't been here in the past two weeks! If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go see if I can have this extra nose growing out of my shoulder removed. Byeee"

"Fuck you."

"You know, if it hadn't been for my horse, I would never have finished that year of college."

"You're gonna die. I have your number on caller ID and within minutes I will know where you live. Never call here again."

But, as the part of me that wanted a job tried to regain control, I managed to come out with a very sarcastic, "Define a lot."

Apparently, this woman had been going for the Miss Clever Dick Award because of some invoice or something that we had sent her without any contact information. I love it when people try to sound snarky and come off sounding stupid. I feel better about myself after such exchanges.

I am getting ever closer to my threshold at this job. Sometime very soon I am going to get very honest during a phone conversation.

Man on the Phone: Hello, I need to buy a [WKCC] com . . .

RRZ: I'm sorry, sir, we only resell [WKCC] products to state and government agencies, and before you say anything else, let me just say that this is not something I have any controller, and therefore no amount of cajoling or threats will get me to sell you a computer. Also, the best way to find someone who will sell you a [WKCC] product is to look at the website or the phonebook or wherever else you found our number, and keep looking. I personally think [WKCC] products are pieces of shit, so I couldn't help you find out anything about them because, well, the less I know the better. So unless you get some sort of sexual thrill from wasting my time in this way, in whcih case, far be it from me to deprive you, get off the phone and go back to you quest for the perfect harddrive, or whatever, and leave me to my slow, lingering death."

MotP: I'm, I'm so sorry.

RRZ: Thank you. Good bye.

Either that, or I'll just start telling them to send a check payable to The Notorious RRZ. They'd be dumb enough to fall for that.

Also, please note new handy dandy comments feature. Drop me a line and let me know if anyone is reading this thing.

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previous - next

The End - 2005-02-11
Let's Go on With the Show - 2005-01-30
The Curse, and This Bee's a Keeper - 2005-02-01
Sisters Lolita and Matronic Explain It All for You - 2005-01-31
Cowboys and Medievalists - 2005-01-30

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