Friday, June 04, 2004

La musique: talk shows on mute- Incubus

I do believe I did something like this shortly before I quit Wal-mart. Coincidence? I suppose we'll see.
Things I hate about my motherfucking job.
By Matt Ling

First, I'll say that majority of our customers are either old and senile, or young and very, very angry. Both groups are incredibly stupid. If you pay over $60 for a hardcover book you can get at Indigo for $30, you're asking to get ripped off.

Things customers do to piss me off
(i) Know your goddamn account number. You wouldn't call the bank and go, "Oh, can you just search my name?" Don't do it with us either.
(ii) This usually coincides with (i), aggravating me further: Assume I know who the hell you are. People will say "This is Christine from Langley BC" -Oh certainly Ms. Christine, you've given me everything I need with that stupid, inane, description of yourself.
(iii) Don't fucking interupt me. If I had a dollar for everytime this happened I wouldn't fucking be here:
"Okay, just for identification purposes, I need...
"Yeah, I don't want that magazine anymore."
I already barely care about what your problem is, don't make me care less.
(iv) Don't act like whatever your problem is, that 'we just lost a customer' Who cares? Not me, I still have a job, not our company, we're still a multi-gazillion dollar operation. Nobody cares that you hate us, smarten the fuck up.
(v) If you don't speak or understand ENGLISH or FRENCH. Don't call us. If I wanted to speak Punjabi I'd fucking live in Pakistan you wanker.
(vi) This is just the catch all for what 1-5 missed. If you're stupid, i.e. 'I don't think I should have to pay shipping' or 'has my recipient paid for the gift I'm giving them yet?'
Don't bother me. If you think you've won in the sweepstakes, you haven't. Don't bother me. Just save us all a lot of trouble and walk in front of a goddamn bus.

Second, Everything we do is fucked up and/or barely legal. Not in the good pornographic way, but in that if somebody sticks a sticker in the wrong place, we ass fuck them with a series of books that are $33 bucks a pop, but cost us less than a dime to make. If you don't let us know otherwise, your magazine is automatically renewed. But since we 'inform' you of this option and because of other mumbo jumbo, it's legal. Our promo mail is so sketchy that I'm tempted to find the knobs and write my name. I'm not even going to try to explain combined billing, I do it enough as it is. And this shit is stuff I have to explain/justify to people on a hourly basis.

Third, if you are a red-headed coworker of mine, chances are I hate you. I may want to throw you out of a moving car. Just because you missed your gravy smoothie this morning is no reason to harp on me for not doing one of the many, many things that I'm supposed to be doing absolutely perfectly. Which brings me to...

Fourth. I DO EVERYTHING. You see, our calls are divided into three main categories. Billing (cancels, etc), Retail (orders), and Customer Service (everything else). Most people take one or two of these, some even in both languages. I AM THE ONLY PERSON who takes calls of all three types IN BOTH FRENCH AND FUCKING ENGLISH. I'm a busy guy, I take a lot of shit, and who cares? No one. No shit I'm pissed.

That being said, I'm writing this at work, listening to music, shooting elastics at Eagan, and getting paid rather well I might add. But backshifts are a whole other bag of potatoes. I also have a lot fun with the people I work with (save a few) and have met some really super people (you know who you are). I was tempted to quit, and still get unemployment (which I could do). But I think I'll stick here pending something better, I mean, I run this fucking place.

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