The Remote Douche


Why yes that man in the tank is playing an anvil in front of a full orchestra.

Some people are just such raging assholes it’s ridiculous. They call up customer service and bully the reps into giving them what they want, all while verbally attacking and putting down the people that are helping them. I at least have the satisfaction of knowing that when they call me, I could give a fuck about their general existence on this earth, let alone their stupid fucking TV problems.

A call came in and must have been a cell phone, because it broke up a bit. I thought it sounded like some sort of salutation, but I wasn’t completely sure.

Winston: “I’m good, how are you?”

Customer: “What? I didn’t ask how you were. I asked if you have my account in front of you. Is that too much for you to handle?”

Winston: “I have your account here, what can I help you with?”

Customer: “Well then why don’t you look over my account and figure it out yourself?”

Apparently bitching is easy, but explaining is far too difficult.

Winston: “Well I see you’re trying to order a replacement remote.”

Customer: “No, I ordered a remote five times and five of you idiots failed. If they were working for me, they would all be fired. You are in a position of authority and you need to get this done NOW!”

Sure I could get a remote to this asshole, but I really didn’t want to. I mean, he really was a dick. Being that I wanted to get him off the phone as soon as possible, I ordered a remote, expedited the shipping, waived the charges, and prepared for the lovely silence following the call with Remote Douche.

Winston: “Okay sir, you should be all set.”

Customer: “No, no, no! That’s not good enough.”

Oh I’m sorry, but I can’t make a fucking remote fall from the sky and land into your little asshole hands. If I had the power to do that, I would make an anvil fall from the sky instead.

Customer: “I need to know why I didn’t get my five goddamn remotes!”

Who fucking cares? I just got a remote, you’re all good to go, now quit dwelling on the past and fuck off.

Winston: “I see there was a problem with shipping on one of them, but I’m sorry, I don’t see much else on the account notes.”

Customer: “No, I need to know, and you need to get me someone that does.”

Winston: “Sir, a supervisor will read you the same notes I have in front of me, they don’t have more resources available to track down the other remotes.”

He then lost his shit even more, which I didn’t think was even possible. I asked my supervisor who echoed my sentiment of who fucking cares since the asshole got a free remote to be delivered the next day. He told me to send the asshole to his voice mail, which is always fun news to deliver.

Winston: “Okay sir, my supervisor is a bit tied up at the moment, but I can transfer you over to his voice mail and he’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

Customer: “No, that won’t work. Why can’t you send me to your direct supervisor right now?”

Well, his job is to supervise, not talk to fucking morons. That’s my job.

Customer: “You were just talking to him, why can’t I? Where you lying to me?”

So back I went to my supervisor, who again refused to talk to the asshole. He said the only option would be to wait on the phone with Remote Douche until another supervisor comes on the floor. That sounded lovely, what the fuck are we going to do, chat about the weather?

The lunatic declined waiting on the phone with me, but come on, did he really have anything better to do anyway? I finally sent him to my supervisor’s voice mail and not even an hour later, he left me a voice mail, flipping shit because he hadn’t received a call back yet. Well obviously my boss didn’t give a fuck, I certainly didn’t either, so I didn’t call him back. It’s hard to motivate yourself to return a message that ends with, “If you don’t call me back immediately you don’t even want to know what I’ll do.”

I checked on the account when I was given a few minutes to work on my pending accounts a couple of days later. Sure enough, he got the remote I sent him the very next day, but within that 12 hour span, he called SIX other people to bitch and moan about essentially nothing since his problem was already solved. If only I had sent him that falling anvil instead…

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