Tag Archives: I know I complain a lot but that’s what women are good at

I love call centre agents… *swoon*

A long long time ago, I had the fortunate luck of working in a call centre. Fresh out of  university, this was the only job I could find with my limited work experience, so I was not complaining… Yet.

It was difficult. The hours were long, my conversational armoury was devoid of chit-chat and to top it off, I have the voice of a little girl (I know this for a fact because one of the customers asked me what grade I was in and whether my parents knew I was using the phone). I was very put out afterward, I decided not to speak to anyone for a week, except at work because I got paid to do so. The speaking I did at work outweighed the speaking I did out of work so this was a very moot exercise.

That said, I’m generally empathetic towards Call Centre agents but I loathe receiving calls from them. I feel like I’m on the Call Centre Agents Association most wanted list.

I'm Dustin. I'm here to make a mockery of your existence.

Typical conversation between me and a CCA:
CCA: “Hi, this is X from YZandBullshit Incorporated”
Me: *Shame, a call centre agent. I know how difficult their lives are. I shall be nice to this fine fellow (Because I think in an old British  accent, evidently)*
“Hi, this is ChocMilk from Planet Earth”
CCA: “…”
CCA: “I’ve called to tell you about an amazing opportunity that your friend Bla thought you might be interested in”
Me: *Bla, she’s a really good friend of mine, she wouldn’t give my number out to just ANYONE*
“Go on…”
CCA: “ Great, well, we at YZandBullshit Inc are offering some amazing discount vouchers that you could use when you go out for dinner with, say, your boyfriend”
Me: *It’s very presumptuous to think I even have one, what if I had a girlfriend and interjected to correct him? Wait… I totally should interject! WOOO! CURVEBALL!*
“I don…”
CCA: “Awesome! Now, you may be wondering….”
Me: -zones out-
2 minutes later

CCA: “… and all that for just R95 a month! How does that sound?”
Me: *Shit! I just made him recite that whole speech. I know that doing so takes a great deal of effort and builds a false sense of WIN! I should have cut the call when I had the chance! I SHOULD HAVE TOLD HIM THAT I AM A LESBIAN! Fuck. FUCK!*
“Great but I don’t think I have my banking details on me…”
CCA: “Not a problem, I’ll call you at another time”

And he did – multiply. Even though I avoided calls from private numbers for days afterwards, he managed to break through my barrier and make me feel even more guilty by saying that he realises how very busy I am…
As a result, I have to give him 5 recommendations – of close friends that may be interested too.
Not only do I have to suffer through the pain of speaking to him again, I have to bring my friends down with me and they will hate me for it and I will be alone and I’ll have to get a dozen cats and my house will smell of tuna and the kids in the neighbourhood will refer to me as ‘that crazy cat lady’ and when the kids in the neighbourhood tell tales of my infamous lack of sanity, they will say that I was brought down by a call centre agent.

That’s the very last time I let a call centre agent assume that I am heterosexual.

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Everyone is equal but some are more equal than others

Before I rant, I would like to state for the record that I am not a feminist. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not hiding a penis under my skirt nor am I a woman that believes that her rightful place is in the kitchen or washing cars in a bikini.

I’d go as far as to say that I HATE feminists. ‘Oh boohoo! I’m belittled in the workplace! But I know what I’ll do to get my point across, I’ll burn my bra!’. Hey, I have an idea, how about you spend less time complaining about how unfair life is and actually do something about it. That ladder isn’t going to get climbed on by itself. Its things like that that works against everything you’re trying to achieve.

When I’m having an off day, I like to spend time in book stores. Sure the internet is a fanciful thing with all them search engines, but nothing beats the smell of inky pages with the occasional strawberry jam stain. I read a lot, at any given moment I could be reading about 4 novels at once. I’d love to say that I can pick up right where I left off but I can’t. I’m not THAT awesome see.

I love the little ‘gift book’ sections for their silly antidotes and nonsensical rambles. I’d never actually bought one of these so I figured I’d look for one to give as a gift to my niece. Cute as a button with curly hair, she eats sand and plays with worms and believes in fairies and watches War of the Worlds avidly. She’s by far one of my favorite people in the world (there are about 12 in total so you know I mean business). 

 This looked, for lack of a better word, perfect. Its great, its big and its glorious. One doesn’t often come  across  a  title so boastful that you are compelled to read it. And I did. I read the crap out of it.

 The contents spanned a whole page, written in fancy letters. You know, the types of lettering only a girl  could appreciate. Here is a selection of the afore mentioned contents-
 – Needlecraft
 – Make up and beauty
 – Home Spa
 – The Great outdoors.

  Yes, ‘the great outdoors’ has its own section. I was particularly intrigued with this one. Here is a list of  things a girl should know when in ‘the great outdoors’:
 – How to fall
 – How to not throw like a girl
 – How to climb trees

Very admirable things every girl should know. Sure she should know how to fall, if she falls in the wrong way, she could get hurt. Sure she should know how not to throw like a girl, even though she is a girl, because throwing like someone other than a girl would make her less cool right? And it is imperative to learn how to climb trees because apparently it would impress the boys. That last sentence was taken from the book.

 So I took a look at this one only to sate my curiosity. I was, literally, standing in the isle with my mouth open. Not the most attractive visual, but I’ve spared my appearance for the sake of this blog. THAT’S HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME.

The contents are written in a no nonsense typeface with a considerably smaller font size. The list covers 1.25 pages AND is presented in two columns. Not only does this one have a schwing title but it also contains more factual information, such as-

Understanding grammar: I love grammar. Its more important to me than the price of oil. I’ve been      known to stop talking to people if their grammar is anything remotely below my standard. Where are the  corresponding pages in the girls book?
The Golden Age of Piracy:  I love pirates. I loved them before they became popular again. I wanted to be  a pirate… a pirate with good teeth. I wanted to start that revolution. Arr ye reddy to floss ye scurvey hag?  There aren’t enough girl pirates. 
–  The greatest paper plane in the world: Nuff said
Girls: There is a whole section for girls. I think this says a lot. From a guys perspective, the matter of girls can be compartmentalized. In the girls book, there are references to boys in almost every section. 

A message to writers of these books, could you try to make the girl version more awesome? Thanks. Until then, I have resolved to buy both. Why should my girl miss out on all the awesomeness just because of the colour of her pretty frock.

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I surround myself with stupid people so I feel more intelligent.

The world has a way of making sense just when the outlook gets more mangled than Amy Winehouse’s dreadlocks… A strange visual I know, but that’s the only way I can look at it.

For months now, I’ve been complaining about my job. Everyone knows this because I bitch about it almost every day. I know I should have acted on this feeling a while ago but I didn’t because I got scared. Poor little pampered girl with a fetish for shoes that I am, I was more concerned about the fact that I enjoy and rely on a regular income to keep me fabulous. Also, I didn’t want to lose all that I worked so hard for over the past two years, and I know that knowledge can never be truly ‘lost’, but a reputation and a working record can, especially if I move out of my field.

I’m one of 5 people in the whole country that do what I do. I like saying that because it makes me sound so important, but I’m not that important really, any monkey in a skirt could do my job and still have time to spare.

If there is one thing I could possibly miss about my job, its all the free time, free time I use to stalk people. People that read my blogs. People like you. I know who you are. LOOK AT ME WHEN I TYPE TO YOU. I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE. YOU OWE ME A MILLION DOLLARS.

Poor reader. I’m sorry you have to read my crap. I assure you that my drivel will cease to be only because I won’t have time to write crap anymore. I’ll only write the important stuff like mission statements and lists about things that are meaningful like ways to cut down on your energy usage or maybe, if I’m really stimulated, a well informed discussion on my views about the state of the economic climate and how it impacts the environment.

Which reminds me, I have another blog to publish about how misleading the scientific community is. If you are a scientist, BEWARE! My thesis lacks evidence and would probably frustrate you, but if you feel the need to send me some sort of message, feel free to do so. I’ll respond maybe, or never, probably never.

So, readers, no more theories about martian kangaroos and toasted sandwiches. I swear. 

… until I get bored of my new job or its totally unfulfillable or I decide to take over the world or clean my cupboard or decide that I don’t need shoes to make me happy and only I can make me happy and maybe I shouldn’t really give a crap about what other people think of me… *deep breath*

so, back to Amy’s dreadlocks, does she ever wash them?

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