Free-range, organic chicken, available at Whole Foods.
As you’ve probably gathered, I’ve had plenty of threats against my life over the last couple of years. There have been too many to count and even too many to mention all of them on the blog. I can only justifiably mention the creative and original threats, like this one:
Winston: “I’m sorry ma’am, but I can’t get the refund back to you sooner than three to five business days. It has to clear with your bank first, but we have no control over that process.”
Customer: “Na-na-na-na. You think you can get away with this?”
Winston: “Ma’am, we made sure the refund was sent to the bank yesterday…”
Customer: “Na-na-na-na. You’re gonna hang for this, you hear me? You’re gonna hang mister! You’re gonna hang!”
Hmm. I can’t make money magically appear so I’m going to be executed? By way of a noose? No, this isn’t the fucking 1600′s and I’m not a fucking witch. It must have been a figure of speech or something, because that made no sense whatsoever. Even literally speaking, I don’t think the death penalty is sentenced to people who can’t get a refund sooner than three business days.
And another fun filled day at the DMV began.
Can you believe it, gentle reader? The wild and crazy world of Extremely Stupid People turns two years old as of today!
I know, I’m excited too. Not excited that I’m still working in the Hell on Earth known as Telescreen Inc, but excited that the blog is still rolling and capturing stupidity after all these years (um…two).
Last year at this time, I contemplated the viability of keeping the blog going. Low readership, a large time commitment, and basically having to relive my life at the call center even when I wasn’t there made me consider shutting ESP down. But I quit being a crying bitch and continued on. Since then, the blog was featured on the WordPress Freshly Pressed page and we gained lots of new intelligent followers. Readership isn’t crazy high or anything, but at least we have a solid crew of people that can join in on making fun of fucking idiots. I also made a new friend, Charlie Blue Dot, that will be collaborating and joining the fun here at ESP. Nothing else of note really happened throughout the year other than that. Just lots of posts about stupid people.
I came to realize over the last year that this blog will need to continue on, whether I have one reader or one million. Whether you read this blog once a month or dutifully each time a new post plops into your inbox, I think ESP can bring some good to the world, even if I do say “fuck” and “shit” a lot. Fuck. Shit. I know it’s made me feel better about having to get screamed at by angry asshole redneck pieces of shit all day. If your job is decidedly shitty, maybe these ESP stories can make your day a little brighter. Maybe you don’t have a job and are tired of watching infomercials. Maybe you just enjoy pointing and laughing at dumb people. I know I do.
“Hey neighbor, I think you parked your ‘truck’ on my tree stump.”
Conversations With Rex
I have been following Winston’s blog since its genesis. Stories of ESP’s and dumb rednecks are not only funny, but give you some perspective on your own intelligence. Litmus tests, if you will. Chances are, if you’re sympathetic with the customer in any of Winston’s stories, you’re probably an ESP yourself.
But what happens when you leave your semi-comfortable work setting and have to deal with the gun-toting, gay-bashing, Christ-loving idiots in the real world? Well, I have the case study for you and he is my next door neighbor…Rex.
Rex in his very nature is a simple kind of guy. One would describe him as a Salt-of-the-Earth character. I don’t understand what that means. Presumably because Rednecks tend to have high-sodium diets and earthy body odors. But Rex is 58 years old and it doesn’t appear he has ever stepped foot outside of his suburban Midwestern community. With his simplicity comes an approachable demeanor and a willingness to offer a neighborly hand, sometimes without request.
I’m driving right that fuck past that supply store.
I tell you what gentle reader, there is just too much fucking stupidity for one man to ridicule by himself. I could spend all day, everyday, sharing ESP stories from my time at Telescreen and I’d still have posts leftover. Yet that’s just while I’m at work, because after I leave the dungeon known as the Telescreen call center, it’s stupidity on the roads, on TV, and inside mother fucking Perkins. I know you all have the same issue as you go about your intelligent lives, so I created “Your Stories” and “Your Posts” to allow you all to share the stupidity. The readers have definitely risen to the challenge, with tons of hilarious stories sent my way and posted as comments throughout the many blog posts on ESP.
Yet one man had far too many stories to share and wanted to start his own blog about stupidity. I think the idea came about with beer in hand, which is always the best way to make decisions. So I invited him to join me here on ESP because, I’ll be damned, two is better than one in the fight against stupidity. So now I will no longer be the sole writer on the blog, but will be collaborating with a new author by the name of Charlie Blue Dot.
Now Charlie has one Hell of a problem. He doesn’t work in an evil shithole like Telescreen. He doesn’t live in the backwoods of Mississippi. But he does live right next door to the craziest Redneck around named Rex. He has been telling me and everyone else the most ridiculous stories about Rex, but it’s not really about what Rex does. It’s always about the dumbest fucking shit that Rex says. So from here on out, Charlie will contribute to ESP by posting “Conversations With Rex.”
“If you think this is nice, just wait until you see the Kias.”
We deal with a lot of sketchy sales agents over in Super Department. We have to help them build accounts when they get caught manipulating the system (which happens on a minute-by-minute basis). We then have to build accounts for them because they fucked with the system. As much as I think they’re pieces of shit, I happily build accounts for them because it beats talking to that trailer trash redneck yelling into the phone with a lisp because he’s missing teeth, but that I still can’t hear because of his fucking crying kids, barking dogs, and asshole friend revving an ATV engine in the background. That’s just one example of a fine Telescreen customer.
Day in and day out, my colleagues and I have to deal with the sketchiest mother fuckers around in the sales department, lying and cheating their way to getting any type of commission. No one at Telescreen seems to care since the management appointed everyone in Super Department to help make sure sales go through. So after years of all that daily lying bullshit, I really appreciate an honest sales agent. I like a man who’s not afraid to lie, and willing to simply speak the truth.
Winston: “So they already have an account?”
Agent: “Sounds like it. Say goodbye to my sale.”
Winston: “Well have you accessed their account and told them what we need to do to get the account moved?”
“Listen, you’re not gonna look cool unless your binocs match your shirt.”
Wow, these searches just keep rolling on in! I have more searches than brain cells left in my noggin after spending a couple of years chatting with ESP’s. Let’s get cooking with the stupidest of stupid searches before I lose the few braincells I have left.
“Rednecks From Mississippi Are So Dumb”
Yeah, no shit. Did you really need to search the Internet for confirmation? A pet rock could have told you that.
“I’m A Master of the Custodial Arts”
No, you’re a fucking janitor. I am not a master of the intelligent arts; I work in a fucking call center and am forced to interact with idiots all day. Let’s quit sugarcoating it, okay?
“Why Legs Don’t Move In Elder People”
Um, because they’re fucking old.
“Stupid People Gaga”
What the fuck?
If you can’t afford a real servant…
Stupid People Say The Dumbest Fucking Things:
Winston: “If you want to upgrade your package to get all of the movie channels, we can add on the premium service for you.”
Customer: “And how much will that cost?”
Winston: “All of them together will be $44 more a month.”
Customer: “And how about just the two we were discussing previously?”
Winston: “Then it would only be $20 a month.”
Then came an awkward pause followed by a big sigh.
Customer: “Oh, I do not know what to do.”
Winston: “You can always make these changes online.”
I always try to dissuade people from calling in. Saving the world, one ESP at a time.
Customer: “No, I do not want to do that. I will think about it. I will have my servant call you back to discuss these menu items at a later time.”
“Wait, that’s what you’re supposed to wear to a job interview?”
Right when I started at Telescreen, I began making my next move. After one day of training, I realized what I was getting into, and immediately wanted out. Obviously, working at Telescreen was going to be a temporary thing until I could find a real job. That was and still is easier said than done, so I set my sights within the company in the interim. I quickly learned that I wasn’t the only one wanting to move around in Telescreen. We employees call it “getting off the phones,” and as the name suggests, we all desire to work anywhere and do anything other than talk to fucking idiots all day.
I began bugging my training boss, then my second boss, then my third boss. My inquiries about moving within the company came about every single day. The supervisors and management aren’t stupid, and they don’t let just anyone transfer. Wait, I take that back, they’re all really fucking stupid actually.
Anyway, the management is aware everyone wants to “get off the phones,” but knows that they need to keep the shitty positions staffed. So in order to transfer, you have to pretend you really want it, be ready for more bullshit, and only opt for one specific department, all in hopes that a vacancy will open up. A normal company would encourage growth and provide employees with opportunities to move up the ranks. As you can imagine, Telescreen isn’t quite as enlightened as a normal company. They prefer to keep the employees at their shitty positions until they inevitably quit. Maybe that’s why we have a new training class hitting the call center floor an average of every other week. I shit you not, that’s a fucking fact.
Apparently Santa’s sleigh broke down.
Just to help you get in the Christmas spirit, here’s a quick little story from one of my coworkers. He claimed this customer is the dumbest person he’d spoken to during his tenure at Telescreen. That’s saying a lot (please review every previous post of this blog as a reference).
Worker: “I’m not showing you’re getting signal to your TV.”
Customer: “That’s what I keep telling you, my dish got knocked over a few nights ago!”
Worker: “Was there some sort of inclement weather?”
Customer: “No, it was Christmas night. The damn thing got knocked over then.”
Customer: “I saw the damn thing happen. A reindeer knocked my satellite dish over!”
Worker: “Excuse me?”
Customer: “I ain’t crazy, I’m telling you one of those damn reindeer knocked it right off of it’s mount. I’m going to need a technician out here asap.”
Apparently someone still believes in Santa.
“No, I have the best beard in town!”
Stupid People Say The Dumbest Fucking Things:
Winston: “So if you want a refund, you’re going to have to send in a bank statement.”
Customer: No response.
Winston: “Um, you can do that by scanning a recent bill from your bank. Do you have a scanner?”
Customer: No response.
Winston: “Well if you don’t have a scanner, you can take a screen shot of your bill online. Do you know how to do that?”
Customer: No response.
Winston: “Hello, ma’am, are you still there?”
Customer: “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry, I wasn’t listening, I was too annoyed.”