It's kind of freaky to have workmen outside with their heads at the bottom of your window. This is how the zoo animals feel, isn't it?
Xander ,'End of Days'
Natter .38 Special
Off-topic discussion. Wanna talk about corsets, duct tape, or physics? This is the place. Detailed discussion of any current-season TV must be whitefonted.
Ooh, brenda's fancy.
What's the etiquette for this anyway? Do I acknowlege them? Wave? Ignore them and pretend they aren't talking SO LOUDLY about their boss and brother in law?
Oooh. Payor it is!
I also just accidentally answered the phone for some weird telemarketing scam thing, I'm sure. She was all, "DON'T MISUNDERSTAND ME! We want to send you three magazines FREE for FIVE YEARS!!" I was like, "NO REALLY. I don't want them!"
I got into an arguement with a telemarketer who insisted that I was recieving magazines from them. (she'd called on the pretense of a customer survey) I quite firmly told her that I wasn't getting any magazines, and she got really nasty about it. I hung up on her and her manager called me back and he yelled at me too! It was weird.
I like beets too. but not commercialy canned. but my mom's pickled beets were pretty good.
to telel marketers - which we don't get a lot of anymore. I say either "I'm not interested " and hang up or " I don't buy anything over the phone" and hang up.
too balance out the bad phone experiences. I had great customer service help last night on the phone from cingular wireless. When we were done I asked the rep. if I could tell someone how helpful she was. Now this is tht second time I've done this in about a year and I swear both times the people sounded like they were gonna cry. Customer Service people almost never get props, so if you have a good experience, take another minute and let their supervisor know. The way I figure it, most places are giving crappy customer service, so the ones who aren't need praise.
What a nice thing! I should do that.
If you were nicer you already would have. ijs.
I love beets!
I have a beet story. When I was 3 or 4, I walked in to the kitchen and asked what we were having for dinner. My mother said “blah, blah, blah and beets” I said “I don’t want any yucky fucking beets” My mother went very still, and said, carefully “What did you say?” I repeated, “I don’t want any yucky fucking beets” My mother then realized that I had NO idea what I was saying, because if I did, I wouldn’t have repeated it. She said “oh, don’t say that word, it’s a bad word.” I said “what, yucky?”
I'm a little charmed at the notion of having to refuse three times.
It’s like denying Christ!