GFD logo
  
Username:
Password:
         Home   Log in   Get an account  
Rankings  
Privacy   FAQ   Contact   Chat live  
Stickers   GFD Store  


Stories Comments Both
people Approaching maximum density
by mythandros
gfd messages
(Suck a Fuck) on Nov 19, 2004 12:32:22 PM

If you were logged in, you could vote for this story!

"Stupid" should hurt its source, not its destination.
 
Stupid fucking people.

So this bitch leaves me a voicemail in an accusatory mommy-caught-you-with-your-hand-in-the-cookie-jar voice, telling me that I didn't finish my job for her. I'm supposed to get her pricing on 2 more quantities of widget. The 2 quantities of widget for which she wants pricing are below the minimum purchase. We have to buy a certain amount of material, so you have to buy a certain number of widgets asshole. That's life. If you don't like it...well, I couldn't possibly care less, nutmunch.

What really grabbed my short curlies and yanked was that I clearly explained this on the pricing that I returned to her. Fucking clear as day. It couldn't be any clearer if the archangel gabriel descended from heaven, smacked her thick skull with his trumpet, and pointed to the text on the page that said "minimum purchase." It could not be more clearer if the ink jumped up off the page and gave her a big fat sticky mushroom bruise between the eyes with it's inky black cock. MINIMUM PURCHASE. RIGHT THERE. IN FRONT OF YOU. AAAARRRRHHHHGGGGG!!!

And you know what? It's not just her. It's fucking everybody. It's like a global conspiracy of stupid. Like the order of the Masons, but trepanned. The very next call i get is from this guy who wants pricing. He starts describing the label to me. We have hundreds of customers. Tens of thousands of different widgets we produce daily. He's describing the label to me like I'm Drool-O, the autistic customer service rep. "Yeah. 40223. Definitely. Definitely 40223. Uh oh, gotta watch wapner..." No, asshole. Numbers. I need numbers. You can't stuff meaningless information into my ear, twist my nipples, and watch me magically produce ticker-tape from my ass with the data you need. No. It does not work that way. So I convey this to einstein in a much nicer way than I wanted to. What do I hear for the next 15 minutes?

*rustle* *shuffle* "..uh.." *shuffle* *shuffle* *scrape* "...that, maybe..." *rustle* *ruslte* *thunk* *scrape* *shuffle*.

I wanted to crawl through the phone and ram his fucking file cabinet up his ass sideways. What kind of dimwit cretin shitball knob-suck calls someone and then makes THEM wait while they sift through volumes of crap?

FUCK! FUCK FUCK!!

I need to cool off...



[ Comment on this story ]



[ Comment on this story | Back to top ]