Wowza! It’s been quite a week in the world of ESP. To all of you faithful readers, I am proud to announce that the blog was featured on Freshly Pressed. If you’re not savvy in blog lingo, that means ESP was chosen for the WordPress home page. I know, that surprised me too, I didn’t think they liked blogs with the word “fuck” in them, but, well, fuck me, they chose it anyway.
The Freshly Pressed feature led to a deluge of activity from the blogging world. In a matter of a few hours, ESP had more viewers than it had seen in its entire existence. True, that’s kinda sad, but I was very happy to see so many new folks. So to all of you bloggers that are new to ESP, thanks for following, reading, and sharing all the great comments. Now enough with the mushy stuff, lets get to what we do best around here: making fun of stupid people.
A call gets transferred my way because a customer is requesting a refund, and for some reason, that normal procedure is too complicated for the frontline agent, so the call is sent to me. I meet Loving Husband, who sounds like he came straight from a goddamn NRA convention.
Customer: “Yesir, I canceled that account, now I need my money.”
Winston: “I do see the account was cancelled as of today, and it looks like there will be about a $30 credit on the account after the equipment is returned.”
Customer: “No way man, I want all the money that was paid last time.”
Winston: “Well the last payment made was for about $70, but that went against the last month of programming. I can only refund a credit balance on the account, which again will be around $30.”
Customer: “Fine, I’ll take the $30, but Hell, y’all owe me all of that money. Stealing bitch.”
Was he calling me a stealing bitch? Or someone else?
Winston: “Can you read me the name on the card so I can make sure the refund is going to the right place?”
Customer: “It’s in my wife’s name, might as well say Dumb Bitch.”
At this point, all I could do was pause, revel in what was said, and repeat my same question. Kind of like, lather, rinse, repeat, but with stupidity instead of dirt.
Winston: “So what’s the name on the card?”
Customer: “No man, I told you it’s in my whore wife’s name. You just give that money to me. Send me a check or somethin’.
Winston: “I can’t refund an amount from one place and put it into another. It doesn’t work that way.”
Customer: “To Hell it does fella, you send me a check for that 30 bucks!”
I figured I’d have to use the tried and true oranges and apples explanation. It’s how you explain monetary value to a young child.
Winston: “Well, think of it this way. If she paid us in oranges, but gave us too many, we would have to pay her back in oranges. We can’t pay her back in apples, because she paid us in oranges.”
I know its an asshole move to treat customers like little kids, but sometimes, you have to.
Customer: “Now lookee here pal, I don’t give a shit if she paid in goddamn pears, I want that money, and you’re gonna get me someone who will.”
I then of course had to go talk to a fucking supervisor because Loving Husband kept demanding one. After explaining the situation further to my boss, he said, “What an asshole!” Introspective yes, helpful no.
Winston: “I’m sorry sir, but I can’t refund the $30 to your card, it can only go back to your wife’s.”
We argued for about 15 minutes more, all the while, I wasn’t sure if this guy understood that $30 really isn’t that fucking much money. That’s a fraction of the cost he paid to get his fourth ATV. I wanted to explain in terms of ATV’s and dirt bikes, in hopes he would understand, but alas, he decided the conversation was winding to an end.
Customer: “Listen here, y’all don’t refund shit unless it’s going to me. That bitch ain’t gonna take another dime from me!”
He then hung up, too soon for me to direct him to the nearest marriage counselor.