Sometimes I get a call from someone, and all I can think is that the person must be a raging psycho. Like the fucking movie Psycho. Really. How thankful I am that people can’t murder me over the phone line. That is what I thought when I encountered a man we’ll call Norman Bates (the main character from Psycho, movie knowledge drop).
Winston: “Thanks for calling Telescreen, this is Winston, how may I help you?”
Customer: “Winston? Yeah, I was trying to get a hold of Jenny. Can you transfer me over to her?”
Winston: “Unfortunately it doesn’t look like she’s in today, but I can give you her direct extension if you’re ready for the number.”
Customer: “No that’s okay, can you just leave a message for her?”
Winston: “Not a problem, I’ll get an email right over to her.”
Customer: “Great. Could you please ask her why she’s so fucking stupid?”
I shit you not, verbatim, this fucking happened. A normal person would have been speechless, but to me, this was just another day. Little did I know what else lay ahead.










