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    Drunk Dialin’

    | London, ON, Canada |

    Me: “Thank you for calling [phone company], how may I help you?”

    Customer: *slurring* “Yeeeaah, you f***ers owe me a 40 of Jack Daniels!”

    Me: “Pardon me?”

    Customer: “I SAID YOU OWE ME A 40 OF JACK!”

    Me: “Why is that, sir?”

    Customer: “Well, youse is the phone company, right? Youse guys make the phones ring, right?”

    Me: “Umm…”

    Customer: “My phone f***ing rang and I knocked my bottle over tryin’ to get it.”

    Me: “Oh, right.” *laughs*

    Customer: “YOU THINK I’M JOKIN’?! Get me a manager!”

    Me: “Sir, we’re not responsible for you knocking over your liquor.”

    Customer: “Yes you f***in’ are! I want a credit on my bill!”

    Me: *click*

    The Perfect Customer

    | Toronto, ON, Canada |

    (A customer wants a better plan than her current 150 minutes/month. I notice she never uses more than 100 minutes or so a month.)

    Me: ¬†”Well, Ma’am, since our plans have change and this amount of minutes seems to be perfect for you, I’m happy to tell you that I can give you the exact same plan for $30 a month and save you $10 a month.”

    Customer: “That’s not a deal. I said I wanted something better than what I have.”

    Me: “This is better. You’ll save $120 a year and based upon your usage, so this is perfect for you.”

    Customer: “How is this better for me if it’s the same plan? I don’t want to change.”

    Me: “So you don’t want me to change this to a $10 per month cheaper plan?”

    Customer: ¬†”I said NO! I don’t want to save money if I get no more minutes out of it.”

    Me: “Deal.”

    No Wonder We’re In A Financial Meltdown

    , | United Kingdom |

    (I sell insurance. Sometimes, bank managers will ring up with customers who are in the bank. In this case, the bank lady was doing all the talking because the woman was partly deaf.)

    Me: “Good morning, *** insurance, how can I help you?”

    Bank manager: “I’m with a lady who’d like a quote, please.”

    Me: “Yup, no problem. Could I speak to her briefly?”

    (I talk to the customer and get her permission for the bank manager to do the quote with her details.)

    Me: “Okay, can I take her surname, please?”

    Bank manager: “My surname or hers?”

    Me: “Hers, please…” *she gives it* “… and her date of birth?”

    Bank manager: “Mine, or hers?”

    Me: “Hers…” *she gives it* “… okay, and her postcode.”

    Bank manager: “Why do you want my postcode?”

    Me: “I don’t. I want her postcode. It’s her policy, so I need her details.”

    (You get the general idea. This continued, right up until the very end of the insurance quote.)

    Me: “So, the price for the year is ***.”

    Bank manager: “I’d have to pay that?!”

    Me: “…”

    My Hypocrisy Ate Your Democracy

    | Orlando, FL, USA |

    Me: “Thank you for calling the Benefits Center, how may I assist you today?”

    Customer: “Hi. I am trying to enroll in my benefits for next year.”

    Me: “Okay, how may I assist you?”

    Customer: “I just got engaged and I want to add my fiance to my insurance.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, but you won’t be able to add your fiance to your coverage until you get married.”

    Customer: “… So, those f***ing f***ots can get benefits, but I can’t?”

    Me: “Yes, sir, but you have the option to get married, they don’t.”

    Customer: “Those f***ing f***ots, f***ing us over anyway they can!”

    Me: “I’m sorry sir, but you have the option to get married, they do not. That is the only reason we offer health benefits to same-sex domestic partners.”

    Customer: “What if I can’t get married? What are you going to do about that?”

    Me: “Why can’t you get married?”

    Customer: “Well, a**hole if you must ask… it’s because I am already married.”

    Me: “Sir, I can assure you we don’t pay for infidelity.”

    Rudolph The Boob-Nosed Reinder

    | California, USA |

    Me: “Thank you for calling ***, this is Bill in the breast aesthetics department. How may I help you?”

    Customer: “My left boob popped.”

    Me: “Okay, so the implant failed?”

    Customer: “Yes.”

    Me: “Are your implants silicone gel or saline?”

    Customer: “The water kind.”

    Me: “So, we’ve had a saline deflation. I need to ask you some questions in regards to how it may have deflated.”

    Customer: “Why, don’t you believe me?”

    Me: “Of course I believe you, but as part of making our implants even better and evaluating where under the device’s warranty this falls, I need to know what may have led up to the implant’s leak.”

    Customer: “Oh, so you think this is my fault?! You make a crappy implant and you have the nerve to blame me?”

    Me: “Wait, wait. First, I didn’t make your implant, my company did. I’m here to help you get this fixed in the fastest way possible and that starts with finding out how the implant deflated.”

    Customer: “So you want to know what I did to screw them up, is that right? I spend a fortune on these things to be walking around with a flat tire of a tit and you think it’s my fault?”

    Me: “No, ma’am. I simply need to know how to cover this under your warranty, to see how much money we are going to give you to fix the problem. We give you a check for money to fix the problem if you’ll just answer my questions. What do you remember doing when you first noticed the deflation in your breast?”

    Customer: “Me and my boyfriend were playing sex hide-and-seek in the house and he thought it would be more fun if my boobs glowed. So, he used a needle tube to insert little red lights into them… what do you call those little glowing lights? It’s like three letters?”

    Me: “… A diode?”

    Customer: “Yes. He’s a trained professional… he uses them on animals at his job all the time.”

    Me: “So, your boyfriend punched a hole in your chest and tried inserting a diode inside the implant?”

    Customer: “Well, not in my chest. Just on the top side of my boob so it wouldn’t hurt. He numbed it first.”

    Me: “… And this is the implant’s fault, how?”

    Customer: “It started leaking and getting flat.”

    Me: *laughing* “I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m recording this and no one is going to believe me!”

    Customer: *click*

    Also seen on: Not Always Romantic.

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