Confessions of a Fuck Up Artist: Two
May. 31st, 2006 03:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalonI was hot with the Evil and ready to spread it.
I sit at a desk and the computer generates the leads and dials them up for me automatically. The 'Leads' information pops up when the phone rings in front of me: Their Name, their full address, their phone number and whether they're married or not. I have a script to read in front of me with two different sets of magazines depending on whether I talk to a man or a woman. I sell magazine subscriptions by the bundle. I'm supposed to sell five of them to make quota and bonus cash. Otherwise they pay spare change over minimum wage. The problem is I don't really care anymore. I'm in a bad place but it feels good. It feels like me, not the me you see but instead the ME I want to be.
I freak out one two of the telemarketers sitting adjacent to me by talking dirty to one of our potential customers. I tell this woman, a married one at that according to the info screen, to take a seat and peel off her panties. I lay it on thick. I'm something out of a junk romance novel. I work her up with a whisper and sit back and listen to her moan, all the while tick tocking my eyes back and forth across the office. The look on my coworkers faces as she cums in my ear is priceless. I lick my lips and close the deal. I ring my bell. It's the first sale of the day for both me and my team.
I can't stop now.
I got the hooves of the four horsemen pounding in me.
I flood answering machines across the midwest with random lines of Bukowski or sometimes I chant in a monotone:"OBEY YOUR GOVERNMENT OBEY YOUR TV!" over and over. I leave cryptic messages like: "You thought you were clever by giving us only half the map... now we'll give you back half the girl in return. One piece at a time!" or "It was you last night wasn't it? It was you looking in my window when you thought my back was turned... oh god I love you too (fill in random name here)... I love you mad beautiful bastard but we have to stop!"
I eventually get some redneck prick who calls me something stupid: The N word, which is not only wrong but is unforgivably ignorant. I ask him if he has the balls to say that again and put him on the speaker phone. The Redneck takes the bait. Half my coworkers go to Moorehouse College. I read him back his address and tell him i'm only an hour drive away. I tell him my 'coworkers' and I would like to have a word with him about his choice of racial epithets. Redneck loses his balls real quick and hangs up.
There's this one cat who's convinced i'm something out of the Mothman Prophecies. I recite in poorly enunciated Hebrew the spheres of the Tree of Life. I manage to get to Netzach when the guy lets out a nervous yipe and hangs up on me. Next up and I get some mouthy fuck somewhere in Kansas and I give him an address to meet me at here in Georgia: It's on the corner of Boulevard and Edgewood.
"Come and get me Cocksucker!" I spit into my headset and go on to the next call.
From here on out I only talk in my Charlie Brown Teacher Voice:
"Wa-Wak-wa-wak-wa-wa-waaa!" I say cordially.
"WHO IS THIS?" Grandma Wichita barks
"Wak-wa-Wak-wa-Wa-wa-wa!" I answer politely.
She slaps the phone down and now, now i'm ready for a much deserved cigarette. I motion to my team lead that i'm taking 5 and step outside.
I step back in and everyones giving me the eye. My boss steps out of his office, clears his throat and motions for me to step inside. I know he knows what's up and the just-pumped-the-neighbors-cat smile on my face tells him that I know he knows. I should be nervous but i'm not. I should be worried about my job and the rent and keeping three hots in the gut but I don't.
No one ever notices me. I'm that guy forgotten after the introductory hand shake. I'm that guy dancing on his own at the club. I'm that guy who can't even get laid at DragonCon. I'm that guy who's only there at the party because he knows someone else who is. I'm that guy... and little else to the world.
Except today!
Today i'm hot with the Evil and ready to spread it, and this little fuck with his bad toupee and name on a plaque on the front of his door is no exception.
I sit at a desk and the computer generates the leads and dials them up for me automatically. The 'Leads' information pops up when the phone rings in front of me: Their Name, their full address, their phone number and whether they're married or not. I have a script to read in front of me with two different sets of magazines depending on whether I talk to a man or a woman. I sell magazine subscriptions by the bundle. I'm supposed to sell five of them to make quota and bonus cash. Otherwise they pay spare change over minimum wage. The problem is I don't really care anymore. I'm in a bad place but it feels good. It feels like me, not the me you see but instead the ME I want to be.
I freak out one two of the telemarketers sitting adjacent to me by talking dirty to one of our potential customers. I tell this woman, a married one at that according to the info screen, to take a seat and peel off her panties. I lay it on thick. I'm something out of a junk romance novel. I work her up with a whisper and sit back and listen to her moan, all the while tick tocking my eyes back and forth across the office. The look on my coworkers faces as she cums in my ear is priceless. I lick my lips and close the deal. I ring my bell. It's the first sale of the day for both me and my team.
I can't stop now.
I got the hooves of the four horsemen pounding in me.
I flood answering machines across the midwest with random lines of Bukowski or sometimes I chant in a monotone:"OBEY YOUR GOVERNMENT OBEY YOUR TV!" over and over. I leave cryptic messages like: "You thought you were clever by giving us only half the map... now we'll give you back half the girl in return. One piece at a time!" or "It was you last night wasn't it? It was you looking in my window when you thought my back was turned... oh god I love you too (fill in random name here)... I love you mad beautiful bastard but we have to stop!"
I eventually get some redneck prick who calls me something stupid: The N word, which is not only wrong but is unforgivably ignorant. I ask him if he has the balls to say that again and put him on the speaker phone. The Redneck takes the bait. Half my coworkers go to Moorehouse College. I read him back his address and tell him i'm only an hour drive away. I tell him my 'coworkers' and I would like to have a word with him about his choice of racial epithets. Redneck loses his balls real quick and hangs up.
There's this one cat who's convinced i'm something out of the Mothman Prophecies. I recite in poorly enunciated Hebrew the spheres of the Tree of Life. I manage to get to Netzach when the guy lets out a nervous yipe and hangs up on me. Next up and I get some mouthy fuck somewhere in Kansas and I give him an address to meet me at here in Georgia: It's on the corner of Boulevard and Edgewood.
"Come and get me Cocksucker!" I spit into my headset and go on to the next call.
From here on out I only talk in my Charlie Brown Teacher Voice:
"Wa-Wak-wa-wak-wa-wa-waaa!" I say cordially.
"WHO IS THIS?" Grandma Wichita barks
"Wak-wa-Wak-wa-Wa-wa-wa!" I answer politely.
She slaps the phone down and now, now i'm ready for a much deserved cigarette. I motion to my team lead that i'm taking 5 and step outside.
I step back in and everyones giving me the eye. My boss steps out of his office, clears his throat and motions for me to step inside. I know he knows what's up and the just-pumped-the-neighbors-cat smile on my face tells him that I know he knows. I should be nervous but i'm not. I should be worried about my job and the rent and keeping three hots in the gut but I don't.
No one ever notices me. I'm that guy forgotten after the introductory hand shake. I'm that guy dancing on his own at the club. I'm that guy who can't even get laid at DragonCon. I'm that guy who's only there at the party because he knows someone else who is. I'm that guy... and little else to the world.
Except today!
Today i'm hot with the Evil and ready to spread it, and this little fuck with his bad toupee and name on a plaque on the front of his door is no exception.
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no subject
on 2006-05-31 08:56 pm (UTC)women and men used to try to have phone sex with me all the time as i did "travel surveys" for a timeshare co.
no subject
on 2006-05-31 09:00 pm (UTC)I only got away with it that once sadly, though I have a few customer service storys that go down a similar track. Now with telemarketing jobs being outsourced to foreign countries or prisons I guess those days are done.
Always glad to provide a much needed chuckle.
no subject
on 2006-05-31 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2006-05-31 10:13 pm (UTC)