Not Always Right on Facebook Not Always Right on Twitter Not Always Right Unfiltered on Tumblr
Featured Story:
  • Marriage Of The Undead
    (1,846 thumbs up)
  • November Theme Of The Month: I Don't Work Here!
    Submit your story today!

    Secret Agent Man Loses It

    , | Elk Grove, CA, USA |

    Me: *on the phone* “Hello, thank you for calling ***. This is *** speaking. How can I help you today?”

    Customer: “Yeah, I need to know what kind of GPS tracers you have.”

    Me: “Certainly, sir. We have the Zoombak system here for–”

    Customer: “No no no, I need something smaller!”

    Me: “…smaller? What are you looking for exactly, sir?”

    Customer: “I want to get a GPS that I can slip onto someone’s person so I can follow them around closely! I think my wife’s having an affair.”

    Me: “Sir, we don’t sell anything like that here.”

    Customer: “But you sell GPS’s!”

    Me: “The receivers, sir.”

    Customer: “And the transmitters?”

    Me: “Huh?”

    Customer: “The transmitters for your receivers!”

    Me: “No, sir. Not that kind of receiver. We only have the kind that tells you where you are.”

    Customer: “So you have nothing I can use to track people? Why not?”

    Me: “Well, I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

    Customer: “What about those things for tracking kids, or the things the POLICE use?”

    Me: “The police have special forms for use, and special power to enact them. And the ones for kids are special-case as well, as the child is under 18, so consent isn’t need–”

    Customer: “Well then, I wanna follow my son around!”

    Me: “You just said ‘wife’. And we don’t have them.”

    Customer: “Oh. What about tasers?”

    Me: “We don’t sell weapons.”

    Customer: “You don’t sell a lot of things, do you? What about audio bugs?”

    Me: “Sir, it seems you want the spy shop. I can give you their number–”

    Customer: “Oh, I know all about them! I’ve had COVERT training, pal! I just thought you might appreciate my covert business. I guess I gotta go take my ELITE COVERTNESS over to the spy shop, then. Jerk.” *hangs up*

    Coworker: *listening in*“You sure that wasn’t a radio station screwing with you?”