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    Dr. Jekyll And Mrs. Hyde

    | Camp Hill, PA, USA

    Me: “Thank you for calling, this is ***. How may I help you today?”

    Customer: *cheerful* “I need you to check my account.”

    Me: “Certainly, I’d be happy to do that for you. May I have your identification number so I can look you up in our system please?”

    Customer: “My what? Why would you want that? Don’t you know who I am?”

    Me: “Unfortunately not, ma’am. We have no real way of knowing who is on the other end of the line unless you give us either that number or your social security number.”

    Customer: *suddenly demonic* “HOW DARE YOU! YOU’RE ONE OF THOSE TERRORISTS, AREN’T YOU?!”

    Me: “Um… excuse me?”

    Customer: “YOU want my social so you can steal my identity, don’t you? That’s why you called me, to steal my credit score, you little punk!”

    Me: “Ma’am, you called me. This is your insurance company. Just read me the number on the front of your card so I can look up your account information.”

    Customer: *suddenly cheerful again* “Oh, is that all? Why didn’t you just say so? My number is ***.”

    Me: “Ma’am, it seems your account is handled by a different department than mine. Would you like me to give you their direct number before I transfer you?”

    Customer: *back to demonic* “YOU TRICKED ME! You tricked me out of my information! I’m calling the FBI on you, you little c**t!”

    Me: *transfers call*

    (I have never been so happy to transfer a caller. I logged the call, and later that day received an internal office email from some rep in another part of the state. All it said was “WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY????”)

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