I'll do my best here, this even challenges MY skills of expression.
Ok. Two hours ago I am sitting in a local bar getting a headache trying to read forums on my cell phone. I'd had maybe a beer and a half and 2 shots. I'm chatting up the bartender who is going to become GOOD content.
Anyway, the phone rings. It is my friend Amy.
Amy is the "night shift" manager of the local branch of Dial America, which in case you didn't know, is a telemarketing firm.
Amy says hello, I say hello back; then do shot number 3.
She is in a tizzy. Their "tech guy" had quit on the spot about an hour before and she could not get ahold of the Big Guy to have the situation dealt with. The problem was that none of the fucking supervisors knew how to import a DB into their dialer. So they were almost out of "leads" and were gonna be SOL in about 30 minutes unless they got the problem handled.
I understand the Hip Telemarketing Lingo because my ex wife was management there in like 92 thru 99.
At this point I do shot #4 and resign myself to the fact that I am going to embark on an annoying experience within minutes.
I try and miserably fail to walk her through some basics, but I am not familiar with their system and she is blonde anyway. So 20 minutes later I am walking up the stairs to their offices or whatever you call the place where broke ass college students and single mothers earn beer money by annoying the Northern Hemisphere of this continent.
I did shot's #5 and #6 en route.
Background: Amy knows me WELL. We've been partying for like 15 years or something ridiculous. That said, IMHO she should have known better than to ask me to visit ANY place of business where the employees weren't sporting pasties. I mean WTF? She's a gnob.
Ok. So I'm walking down the hall which opens up into the "bullpen". That's where the idiots that try to sell you 400 dollar Time Life book collections earn their mad bling.
That's when I see something that is decidely fucking just I dunno, MESSED UP. 20 feet or so down the hallway, right in the junction of the hall and the big telemarketing command center, I see 5 people. They are having DRAMA.
Person #1 is a large negress. She has BIG ass but is dressed well.
Person #2 is a brunette. Little chunky but I'd hit it.
Person #3 is a pretty cute white twat with light hair.
Person #4 is a dude wearing khakis and a button down shirt. His shirt is tucked in so I assume he's a fag.
They are all obviously focused on person #5.
Person #5 is at LEAST 6 foot tall. Hes a bruiser. Big guy. He had a LOT of tattoos, I'd define the tats on his left arm as a sleeve. His right arm wasn't too far behind. He's wearing leather pants and a black t-shirt that he's cut the sleeves off of. The shirt has some gothic/punk/idiot logo on it. I didn't look too close because I was immediately distracted by the fact that he was crying.
CRYING.
Why was he crying you ask?
I'll answer those questions and MORE in Part Two.
This is the FUNNIEST fucking thing I've EVER seen. Tune in next week. Same Bat Time, same Bat Channel.
Ok. Two hours ago I am sitting in a local bar getting a headache trying to read forums on my cell phone. I'd had maybe a beer and a half and 2 shots. I'm chatting up the bartender who is going to become GOOD content.
Anyway, the phone rings. It is my friend Amy.
Amy is the "night shift" manager of the local branch of Dial America, which in case you didn't know, is a telemarketing firm.
Amy says hello, I say hello back; then do shot number 3.
She is in a tizzy. Their "tech guy" had quit on the spot about an hour before and she could not get ahold of the Big Guy to have the situation dealt with. The problem was that none of the fucking supervisors knew how to import a DB into their dialer. So they were almost out of "leads" and were gonna be SOL in about 30 minutes unless they got the problem handled.
I understand the Hip Telemarketing Lingo because my ex wife was management there in like 92 thru 99.
At this point I do shot #4 and resign myself to the fact that I am going to embark on an annoying experience within minutes.
I try and miserably fail to walk her through some basics, but I am not familiar with their system and she is blonde anyway. So 20 minutes later I am walking up the stairs to their offices or whatever you call the place where broke ass college students and single mothers earn beer money by annoying the Northern Hemisphere of this continent.
I did shot's #5 and #6 en route.
Background: Amy knows me WELL. We've been partying for like 15 years or something ridiculous. That said, IMHO she should have known better than to ask me to visit ANY place of business where the employees weren't sporting pasties. I mean WTF? She's a gnob.
Ok. So I'm walking down the hall which opens up into the "bullpen". That's where the idiots that try to sell you 400 dollar Time Life book collections earn their mad bling.
That's when I see something that is decidely fucking just I dunno, MESSED UP. 20 feet or so down the hallway, right in the junction of the hall and the big telemarketing command center, I see 5 people. They are having DRAMA.
Person #1 is a large negress. She has BIG ass but is dressed well.
Person #2 is a brunette. Little chunky but I'd hit it.
Person #3 is a pretty cute white twat with light hair.
Person #4 is a dude wearing khakis and a button down shirt. His shirt is tucked in so I assume he's a fag.
They are all obviously focused on person #5.
Person #5 is at LEAST 6 foot tall. Hes a bruiser. Big guy. He had a LOT of tattoos, I'd define the tats on his left arm as a sleeve. His right arm wasn't too far behind. He's wearing leather pants and a black t-shirt that he's cut the sleeves off of. The shirt has some gothic/punk/idiot logo on it. I didn't look too close because I was immediately distracted by the fact that he was crying.
CRYING.
Why was he crying you ask?
I'll answer those questions and MORE in Part Two.
This is the FUNNIEST fucking thing I've EVER seen. Tune in next week. Same Bat Time, same Bat Channel.
AIM: GrouchyGfy
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