Okay. So, the first day of work was 6 to closing, which is technically 10 pm. Technically. After all the customers -who are some of the rudest people in the US- have left, the workers are supposed to finish up whatever reshop, the item that get left behind, and put out the merchandise for the night crew to stock. Not much when it's a normal day. But was this a normal day? Of course not.
Seeing as how half the crew that was supposed to close decided not to show up, we, the floor crew, got to reshop for an hour. AN HOUR. And I could not figure out where the hell this stupid megaman thing went. No other magamen! >_O
Anyway, after giving up on megaman and putting him next to batman, I go to my supervisor and ask what we're supposed to do now. She happily replies, "We get to bring out pallets!" Do I know what a pallet is? Not quite. But I follow her anyway to the loading area where lots of cardboard boxes on wooden platts are. She takes a metal cart thing -a pallet, I guess- and takes a load of boxes out. I do the same and come back.
Now, this wouldn't be so bad if the loading crew were all present. But there were only four. So we got to help for another wonderful hour of happiness and carting large piles -usually about to collapse- of stuff around the store. By the time I clocked out, it was a little past midnight.
I get into my Jimmy box and convince that I'll make it home. Halfway home, I start thinking, "Wow, it's really dark out. I mean, it's night, but it shouldn't be this dark!" I then discover that my headlights were off. The latter half of the drive was spent laughing deleriously at that fact. Thank god those roads were empty.
Anyway, yeah, first day of work = suck. But I got 2 hours overtime, so happy, I guess. But the next day, I was still tired from my excursions earlier that morning. So, I'm looking for my straight edge so that I may continue with my "RSoM" submission when Dish Satalite calls (we have a history of them repeatedly calling us. It's very vexing.) and I am really not in the mood to shout at a machine. But I discover that it's an actual person. Jubilations!
Now, I could have asked her not to call us anymore. But that didn't enter my head when I began to talk like an inbred hic. Our conversation went like this:
Tele: Hello, this is Dish Satalite and we would like to offer you-"
Me: Where is me straight edge? I can't find me straight edge! You know missy, I've been lookin' an lookin' fer HOURS, but I still cain't find it! You know where it is?
Tele: Uh... no, I don't...
Me: Well, that's jest fine. I really need me straight edge!
Tele: Um... straight edge?
Me: Oh, not the blade, we got knives fer that. I mean the thing you use if you waunt a straight line...
Tele:... A ruler?
Me: Yeah, yeah! A straight edge!
Tele: Well, I'm sorry you can't find it ma'am... But uh... Do you have cable or anything?
Me: Naw, we dun have a TV.
Tele:... You don't have a TV?
Me: Well, we do, but the cats like to git in there and nibble on the wires 'n such. And Bubba's gone an' tooken the copper, don' you see.
Tele: So, you don't have a TV, ma'am?
Me: Not unless you wanna watch the cats.
Tele: Thank you, ma'am I hope you find your straight edge.
Me: Well, thankie, dearie!
End. That was the most fun five minutes I have ever had on a phone.
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honestgamer - November 15, 2006 (06:28 PM) Those dish satellite people drive me nuts. The worst is when they leave a message because I'm out of the house, and I don't have the option to delete it from voicemail until I've listened to the whole dang thing... for the millionth time. I hate those punks! |
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silverishness - November 17, 2006 (05:42 AM) We should start a revolt. |
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honestgamer - November 17, 2006 (07:08 PM) Once I listened through one of those messages and accidentally hit the 'save' button instead of deleting it, so I had to listen through it again before I could delete it! |
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silverishness - November 19, 2006 (08:21 AM) Poor you |
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