My internets make you hot.

Today I have realised that I work with some of the craziest people in the world, not only directly but indirectly.  I could write about it in full but I can't because it's hysterical and it took me about 30 minutes to fully recover from the comedic results of the tale.

Also, a rather amusing mailbox was sent around to ops on duty about leaving "floaters" in the ladies loos.  Not exactly the kind of thing you need to be reading whilst on the phone to somebody in a breakdown situation.

On Vox: My internets make you hot.

Today I have realised that I work with some of the craziest people in the world, not only directly but indirectly.  I could write about it in full but I can’t because it’s hysterical and it took me about 30 minutes to fully recover from the comedic results of the tale.

Also, a rather amusing mailbox was sent around to ops on duty about leaving « floaters » in the ladies loos.  Not exactly the kind of thing you need to be reading whilst on the phone to somebody in a breakdown situation.

Originally posted on monkeybox.vox.com

As a call centre employee, the inherent problem…

.. I have, is when picking up my own phone I tend to slip back in to that work mode, occasionally I catch myself, othertimes not so lucky.  Like just now, David's line rings and I pick up, the call follows this routine:

M = Me
C = Caller

M: Good afternoon, Kevin speaking how can I help?
C: Uh, is David there?
M: I'm afraid he's away from his desk at the minute, can I take a message? (I seriously said this).
C: Yes, if you could, could you tell him A N Other called?
M: Certainly, what is your number there?
C: 07777
M: 0..7..7..7..7…
C: 777
M: 7..7..7
C: 777
M: 7..7..7..
M: I'll pass that across to him, thank you for calling.
C: bye
M: Good bye.

Obviously this kind of activity in the home makes me want to cry, but instead I shall be eating pie (they rhyme!)

Oh and also, new thing at work, I've got a rather amusing girl across from me, occasionally (I say occasionally, but I mean frequently)  comes out with some rather funny stuff.  So I'm bringing in a new notepad which will be left on my desk to be filled in occasionally.  Then if there is enough good material in it, I might start a blogspot or something.

On Vox: As a call centre employee, the inherent problem…

.. I have, is when picking up my own phone I tend to slip back in to that work mode, occasionally I catch myself, othertimes not so lucky.  Like just now, David’s line rings and I pick up, the call follows this routine:

M = Me
C = Caller

M: Good afternoon, Kevin speaking how can I help?
C: Uh, is David there?
M: I’m afraid he’s away from his desk at the minute, can I take a message? (I seriously said this).
C: Yes, if you could, could you tell him A N Other called?
M: Certainly, what is your number there?
C: 07777
M: 0..7..7..7..7…
C: 777
M: 7..7..7
C: 777
M: 7..7..7..
M: I’ll pass that across to him, thank you for calling.
C: bye
M: Good bye.

Obviously this kind of activity in the home makes me want to cry, but instead I shall be eating pie (they rhyme!)

Oh and also, new thing at work, I’ve got a rather amusing girl across from me, occasionally (I say occasionally, but I mean frequently)  comes out with some rather funny stuff.  So I’m bringing in a new notepad which will be left on my desk to be filled in occasionally.  Then if there is enough good material in it, I might start a blogspot or something.

Originally posted on monkeybox.vox.com

Audi After sales

You'd think when investing (and I use the term loosely) in an Audi of some description, that the aftersales would be just short of sending teenage hookers to your home to service you whilst your car is getting, well, serviced.

Obviously this is not the case.  Having left a number of messages and waiting about 3 hours of my precious life waiting for these people to stop mashing down the doughnuts and start mashing the telephone numbers to connect to my telephone unit at work, I started to lose the will to live.

It's like, seriously, you burn stupid amounts of money on a ford focus in disguise (while it shouts VER BOTEN DAS TEKNIK [or whatever]) and they can't really be too bothered with those pesky customer types.  It turns out my work was in vain and I've had to start making further arrangements with an alternate Audi dealer, which of course started off in the same manner as the previous one.  It's also worth mentioning it's a bit time sensative, so no doubt this might turn in to a "and hilarity ensued" entry by tomorrow afternoon.

On Vox: Audi After sales

You’d think when investing (and I use the term loosely) in an Audi of some description, that the aftersales would be just short of sending teenage hookers to your home to service you whilst your car is getting, well, serviced.

Obviously this is not the case.  Having left a number of messages and waiting about 3 hours of my precious life waiting for these people to stop mashing down the doughnuts and start mashing the telephone numbers to connect to my telephone unit at work, I started to lose the will to live.

It’s like, seriously, you burn stupid amounts of money on a ford focus in disguise (while it shouts VER BOTEN DAS TEKNIK [or whatever]) and they can’t really be too bothered with those pesky customer types.  It turns out my work was in vain and I’ve had to start making further arrangements with an alternate Audi dealer, which of course started off in the same manner as the previous one.  It’s also worth mentioning it’s a bit time sensative, so no doubt this might turn in to a « and hilarity ensued » entry by tomorrow afternoon.

Originally posted on monkeybox.vox.com