For three months at Telescreen, I had successfully avoided one terrible type of call. Yet I knew it was coming and that I would eventually meet my fate. Yes, ladies and gentleman, I experienced my first crier. We’re not talking about someone getting a bit choked up, we’re talking about tears running faster than fucking Niagara Falls. I would have felt bad, but the customer was an asshole. I never feel bad for assholes, that’s one of my golden rules.
Before Waterworks was crying, she was yelling, obviously. Bitching is a favorite pastime of my friendly customers. She was complaining about a cancellation fee. I hate to break it to you lady, but when you sign a contract, I can’t magically waive a cancellation fee. You probably shouldn’t have signed the contract in the first place, but unfortunately, I wasn’t there to tell you that Telescreen was a piece of shit company.
Customer: “You take my money, you are bad, bad man!”
Winston: “Ma’am, as I explained before, the cancellation fee is implemented when you break your contract.”
Customer: ”What do you mean? I sign nothing.”
I should have probably refrained from using words like “cancellation” and “implemented.” In the future, I’ll stick with simple words repeated over and over, such as, “Money, pay, now, dipshit.”
Gentle reader, I’ve been selfish. For the past few months, I’ve been having all the fun. Here I am, mocking stupid people day in and day out, while you don’t get to join in on the fun. Those days are now over. Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the new ESP. Let’s review some of the exciting changes taking place around these parts.
First off, I obviously have a really cool acronym for the blog. No, I don’t mean extrasensory perception, that’s nerdy as shit. Now when your friends ask you what you’re doing, you can say, “I’m reading ESP, biatch.” That sounds much better than saying, “I’m reading a blog where some asshole complains about dipshits.” We call that streamlining, which is one of the many words stupid people don’t understand.
Second, I’ve changed the organization of my blog. Now I only post the first two paragraphs, and then you must click the link to go to the full blog post and continue reading. In simpler terms, to read the rest of this entry, click the link below that fucking says, “Read the rest of this entry.” Go ahead, give it a gander.
One of my greatest difficulties at Telescreen has been telling people they’re fucking idiots without directly calling them stupid. This has been quite the dilemma, as it takes some clever maneuvering on my part. An example would be a gentleman trying to change some settings on his TV.
Winston: “Sir, we are going to need to change the channel on your TV, so go ahead and press the channel up button for me please.”
Customer: “Well, I pressed the channel up button, and it made the volume louder. That’s sure weird.”
You sir, are a fucking idiot. You hit the goddamn volume up button, and in your shroud of stupidity, you somehow deem it necessary to think there is something wrong with your TV. Fucking pathetic. How can I say this politely?
Winston: “Okay sir, go ahead and try pushing the channel up button again, and verify the button says “channel up” for me please.”
Customer: “Oh, there we go, I guess I hit the volume up button.”
No shit Sherlock. How about a fucking round of applause?
Stupidity reached a new level today. I am always amazed by the resilience of stupid people. Just when I think I’ve seen it all, they still manage to prove that the utmost amount of stupidity is still possible. Stupid people are like Twinkies. Though Twinkies are a delicious snack, they serve no real purpose, as they have no nutritional value. They are all over the place, easily recognizable, and they can survive a nuclear holocaust. Stupid people are quite similar. Their lack of intelligence is entertaining, yet they have no real purpose, as they contribute nothing to the betterment of the human race. They are all over the place, easily recognizable, and yes, probably would survive a nuclear blast as well.
I’ve been troubleshooting with Cletus for 30 minutes, and so far, we’ve gotten absolutely nowhere. What advanced tech support am I providing my genius friend with? Cletus can’t quite figure out how to cancel out of an error screen. Yes, 30 minutes of tech support later, and we’re still on the same error message. How the Hell do you cancel out of an error screen? Let me break it down in layman’s terms: you press cancel. You fucking press cancel.
You know when you call an 800 number and you get prompted as to why you’re calling in? After listening to that automated voice, aka Robot Douche, your call is then routed to wherever you specified. If your computer is broken, you get some poor asshole in tech support. If you want to inquire about your bill, you get some poor asshole who basically gets paid to listen to people complain. If you decide you want to spend your hard-earned cash money, you get some really annoying asshole who’s going to tell you to spend more money. What’s that department called? Oh yeah, sales.
The geniuses at Telescreen decided one day, why not combine all these departments into one super department? Then someone in HR decided I would be a good fit for this fun-filled department. Lucky me. After four weeks of training, we were supposed to be experts in solving TV and computer issues. We were taught to have the patience of a 3rd grade teacher in listening to dickweeds complain about their bills. We were shown how to sell new products and save customers who threatened to leave our beloved company.
When I’m on the phone, I like to keep my conversations private. It’s not like I’m always talking about some confidential shit, I just don’t want some stranger listening to every detail of my life. Unfortunately, stupid people don’t feel the same way, as I know far too much about these assholes and their daily adventures in stupidity.
I’m troubleshooting with a customer, trying to fix some shit on her computer. We’re waiting and waiting for multiple prompts to download. This is old Winston’s favorite type of call, because it involves lots of time to just sit around and wait. This means more watching TV, playing iPhone Scrabble, or staring at the clock and seeing if it could possibly move any fucking slower. I have to hang out on the phone while each step downloads, and all the while, this lady is carrying on a very intense conversation with her man.