A guy at my work, one of my supervisors, is basically at semi-aged frat boy. He says "dude" constantly. He drinks beer at his desk every Friday afternoon. Oh and in the tradition of so many frat boys before him, he's a douche. If he can't figure out how to do something, then it is clearly broken and you broke it and fuck it's going to take him HOURS to fix it. Really? Because *click* oh, there. Yeah, it works. SHUT UP.
Mantra: I love my job i love my job i love my job
Okay, see, that's one of my many lies. I enjoy my other co-workers. They're fun. We get along. We probably won't be friends after I leave here, but hey, I don't care.
But, damnit, the work is so mindless sometimes. I am just not cut out for customer service work. I don't like it and I'm not good at it. I had to make twenty fucking follow-up calls today.
Really? There's a completely insignificant problem with the product you received that your customers will never notice? Sure, we'll waste our money shipping it back to us and sending you a replacement. Then we'll sell that to someone else. Because NO ONE ELSE will notice.
My god, can August get here any faster? FML
Okay. If this is who I think this is. THANK YOU FOR INCLUDING ME. I love you. What you said to me goes the same for you.
ReplyDeleteIf it's not. Please completely disregard this message--though I'm sure I would love you if given the chance.
WHAT? Just because I like glitter, zombies, and all things NSFW just like someone else you know you ASSUME I'M THEM???? Okay, whatevs. Totes. (Let's start with benefits, then we'll talk about love)
ReplyDelete