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    Beware Of The Pink Perv

    | Oregon, USA |

    (At the cell phone company I work for, there is a notorious caller, referred to by us all as “The Pink Pencil Guy”. New hires are warned of him in training. He doesnt even have an account. He just calls from untraceable phones. He only talks to female employees. I’ve talked to him twice. This is how my first encounter with him goes.)

    Me: “Thanks for calling, how can I help you?”

    Caller: “I have a pink Motorola RAZR and I need you to help me change my ringtone. On my pink RAZR.”

    Me: “Okay, I can do that. Do you have–”

    Caller: “But first, I need you to tell me to get my pink pencil and my pink pad of paper.”

    Me: “I can’t do that.”

    Caller: “Just tell me to get my pink pencil and pink pad of paper, now!”

    (He eventually gives up and ends the call, which was good for me: when he’s lucky to get a rep who will play along, he’ll get more and more sexual about it for as long as he can get away with it.)

    A Welsh Of Knowledge

    | Wales, UK |

    (I work in a call center that only calls the local area.)

    Me: “Hello, sir, I’m just calling about–”

    Customer: “What country are you calling from?”

    Me: “Me? Wales, sir.”

    Customer: “Don’t give me that. All of you people are based in India or something.”

    Me: “I assure you, we’re not, sir. I’m not Indian; I’m based in Wales.”

    Customer: “Sure you are! You companies are all the same.” *in Welsh* “I bet we don’t even speak the same language.”

    Me: *in Welsh* “Sir, I’m not Indian. I’m in an office probably no more than ten minutes from you right now.”

    Customer: “You know, for an Indian, you have excellent pronunciation.”

    Canada: America’s Hat, Part 3

    | Canada | Canada

    (I’m working the customer service line and have just finished explaining our services to a caller.)

    Caller: “Well, that sounds great! You seem like a good, honest American business.”

    Me: “Canadian, actually.”

    Caller: “No such thing!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, come again?”

    Caller: “There’s no such thing as ‘Canadian’; you’re either American or one of those foreign people.”

    Me: “Um, I’ll…put you through to sales then.”

    Caller: “Thank you!”

    Related:
    Canada: America’s Hat, Part 2
    Canada: America’s Hat

    Pray The Gay To Stay

    | Melbourne, Australia | Family & Kids, Top

    (We run a number of programs to help parents of children with special needs, so they can access services. We occasionally also give out parenting advice.)

    Caller: “Can you tell me what makes someone gay?”

    Me: “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

    Caller: “Gay. What makes someone gay?”

    Me: “Ma’am, if your child is gay, nothing ‘made’ them gay. And being gay is certainly not a disability.”

    Caller: “Of course it’s not a disability! What kind of disgusting person thinks being gay is a disability?”

    Me: “Then why do you want to know what makes someone gay?”

    Caller: “I want to make my son gay. I would love to have a gay child. I’m very open minded!”

    Me: “Ma’am, you can’t make someone gay. If your son is straight, you can’t change that.”

    Caller: “Well, I see on the news all the time about how single parent families have gay kids. I am a single mother, but I still don’t think he’s gay.”

    Me: “Um–”

    Caller: “Should I show him pictures of gay men having sex?”

    Me: *stunned* “Um…I doubt that’s a good idea. You would just confuse him, and possibly scare him. Can I ask how old your son is?”

    Caller: “He’s three. I want him to be gay before he goes to school. So if gay porn would scare him, should I show him straight porn? I really really want a gay son.”

    Me: “Ma’am, you cannot show a 3 year old porn of any kind! You can’t control your son’s sexuality!”

    Caller: “You don’t understand. I’m very open minded! You must just be homophobic.”

    Me: “Ma’am, I’m gay!”

    Caller: “Then why won’t you help me? Don’t you want my son to be gay? He’d be such a good gay man!”

    The Horrors Of Mispronunciation, Part 2

    | Salt Lake City, UT, USA | Religion

    (I work in a call center that distributes supplies to missions all over the world. We get called at least three times a week, sometimes more, by a woman who likes to order supplies for her mission one or two items at a time. Also, all missionaries carry a ministerial card, certifying them as authorized representatives of our church.)

    Me: “Okay, I’ve entered that order for you. Is there anything else you need?”

    Customer: “Yes, I need a menstrual certificate.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, a what?”

    Customer: “A menstrual certificate!”

    Me: “A what?”

    Customer: “A menstrual certificate! One of our elders has lost his menstrual certificate, and he needs a new one!”

    Me: “Um, I think you should call the missionary department about that one.”

    Related:
    The Horrors Of Mispronunciation

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