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    How To Create Characters

    | Bluefield, WV, USA |

    (A customer calls in to make a payment with his credit card. He is an older man, and is obviously having trouble reading the numbers.)

    Customer: “Let’s see. 1, H–”

    Me: “Sir? Did you say H?”

    Customer: “Yeah. H, 8–”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir. There are no letters in a credit card number.”

    Customer: “Yeah there are. 1, H, 8, L…”

    (I try, just in case. I receive an error as soon as I type in the letter.)

    Me: “I’m terribly sorry, sir. It won’t accept letters.”

    Customer: “Well try again! 1, H, 8, L, 6…”

    *long pause*

    Customer: “Oh! I have this thing up-side-down!”

    Speaking Posh Gets You No Dosh

    | Boise, ID, USA |

    Me: “Thank you for calling [company]. My name is Steve. How can I help you?”

    Caller: “Who did you say this was?”

    Me: “Steve. With whom do you wish to speak?”

    *long pause*

    Caller: “Did you just say ‘whom’?”

    Me: “Yes.”

    Caller: “I have the wrong number.”

    A Few Digits Shy Of A Phone Number

    | Pensacola, FL, USA |

    Me: “Thank you for calling [cell phone company]. May I confirm your wireless number?”

    Customer: “My what now?”

    Me: “Your wireless number?”

    Customer: “I haven’t got a wireless number.”

    Me: “Your cell phone number.”

    Customer: “Oh yeah. I don’t know.”

    Me: “You don’t know what your phone number is?”

    Customer: “Nah. What is that?”

    Me: “The number associated with the cell phone that you’re calling me from right now.”

    Customer: “Yeah. I don’t know it.”

    Me: “I see here that you’ve had the account for over a year.”

    Customer: “Yeah.”

    Me: “So do you know your number?”

    Customer: “Yeah.”

    Me: “Okay.”

    *awkward silence*

    Me: “Can you tell me what it is?”

    Customer: “I don’t know what that is.”

    Me: “Okay, let’s try this.”

    (I explain how to access the number from the phone menu.)

    Customer: “How do I get the menu?”

    Me: “Press the menu button.”

    Customer: “I haven’t got one. Hang on.”

    (The customer presses random buttons for about a minute.)

    Me: “Hello, sir? Are you done?”

    Customer: “I see something on my screen. It’s a real long number. Is this my number?”

    Me: “What does it say?”

    Customer: “396748562318521*2554###.”

    Me: “Okay, stop. Those are the numbers you just typed into your phone.”

    Customer: “Yeah.”

    Me: “Yeah.”

    Customer: “Oh yeah. I know my number.”

    Me: “Really?!”

    Customer: “Yeah. It’s [6-digit-number].”

    Me: “That was only 6 digits.”

    Customer: “Yeah.”

    Me: “I need 10.”

    Customer: “Oh. I only got 6.”

    Me: “I realize this.”

    Customer: “That isn’t enough?”

    Me: “Not in the United States of America, no.”

    Customer: “Well, that’s all I got.”

    Me: “Is there any way that I can help you today?”

    Customer: “No.”

    It’s The End Of The World (As We Stole It)

    | Upstate New York, USA | Religion

    (I work for a telecommunications company doing tech support. It’s 5/20/11, the day before the supposed Rapture, and I am scheduling a work order.)

    Me: “Now, sir, I have appointments open for the 21st. Would that work at all?”

    Caller: “Well, yes, we should be around, unless we get Raptured. In that case, we might want to cancel it. Or, if we don’t, we might not want to cancel it. Not sure which one is the bigger problem.”

    Me: “Sir, I do assure you we are well prepared for either eventuality–return of Christ or not. Now, barring Rapture, I have a 1 – 3 pm and 3 – 5 pm. Which would you’d prefer?”

    Caller: “1 – 3 pm. If we don’t get Raptured, we want time for looting.”

    Her Heart’s Really In It

    | UT, USA |

    (This very old lady is calling. She calls every so often and always sounds like she’s ill.)

    Me: “Thank you for calling customer support. How may I be of assistance to you?”

    Customer: “I am highly upset right now!” *coughs and wheezes* “You people are always messing up my orders! I am a high paying customer who needs to have their order now. I can’t get into my account.”

    Me: “Alright. Have you tried logging in?”

    (The line goes silent. I can hear her clicking her computer.)

    Customer: “Oh, I feel so ashamed. I can die right now.”

    Me: “That’s okay, ma’am. I’m just glad you were able to get in. Is there anything I can do for you?”

    Customer: *coughs* “My chest hurts.”

    Me: “Excuse me?”

    Customer: “I think I’m having a heart attack from all of the shame!”

    Me: “Ma’am, you should call the doctors right away!”

    (I hear a noise.)

    Customer: *coughing and laughing* “Never mind. It was just gas.”

    Me: “Well, I’m glad you’re alright, ma’am.”

    Customer: “Me too. But I don’t think that my dress is.”

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