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1, 2....Ah, soz.
05/02/2014, 23:27

Usually when I say it'll just be a quickie to someone it's because I know there's been far too much drink taken and that I won't be able to treat the lady of my dreams (when under the influence that description could be practically anyone) to one of my usual five hour marathon sessions interspersed with pizza cooking, having a cigarette or two and some champagne all while remembering to lift out bacon for the obligatory morning after sandwich, but I digress and this is only the first paragraph. However, I just wanted to share a little gem from a customer I spoke to that brightened up my day considerably (not that it was particularly bad in the first place.)

The customer was having problems with our online system (just for your picturing the scene benefit, he sounded late fifties/early sixties and was quite well spoken but not Eton posh) and I talked him through it, did the usual obligatory "Have you switched it off and then back on again?" thing and finally got him sorted. Obviously deciding he had time on his hands he decided to settle in for a chat and as it was really quiet I decided to indulge him just a little rather than do my usual trick of hanging up when they start to waffle and pretend to anyone that may have seen/heard that my phone had suddenly broken and going off for a cup of tea (I am a Civil Servant after all, and a British one at that.) Also fortunate is the fact no one has yet picked up on the fact that when I'm carrying out helpline duties I wear a headset that plugs into the PC and uses a dialer/interaction app on the desktop.)

He started off by talking about the weather (very British, obviously) and then after about 4 seconds I was bored so decided that the cup of tea was preferable after all. It was then that the following exchange ensued, and I am able to repeat it verbatim because the call was recorded and I pretended to have some urgent work to do in the Production office and went and listened to the call and typed it into a document.

Smash: Well, thanks for your call Mr Smith (not his real name) but as we have other calls waiting (a total lie) I will sadly have to go and do some work. (LOL!)

Mr Smith: Smash, before I go, may I ask your opinion on something?

Smash: Of course...

Mr Smith: Do you think men with combovers look silly?

Smash: (laughs heartily) What??

Mr Smith: I'm serious.

Smash: Seriously? Absolutely, definitely, beyond a shadow of a doubt and with no exception. Fortunately enough for me I still have a full head of hair that is long and I tie it back when in work but if I ever started to go bald I'd shave every bit of it off rather than risk looking like someone who is desperately trying to cling to their youth. (Oh, Smash, you can be very cruel, but I didn't know he was asking for personal reasons at this point!)

Mr Smith: (Pauses for 8 seconds) Oh... (utterly dejected, his voice devoid of the bonhomie of two minutes previous)well thank you.

Smash: You're welcome. Ciao. *click*

Believe it or not, in our department we do get a lot of callers who descend into weird and wonderful subjects (there's a lady from one of our offices somewhere in the Hampshire county who is extremely flirtatious and talks a lot about sex - it isn't Stepfie, by the way, as far as I know she isn't working for us yet - but as I adore looking at men with bad comb-overs (not in a sexual way, of course) I decided I had to share. Naturally I realized at the end of the call that it must have been something that was clearly bothering him to the point of asking a total stranger for his opinion and that my carefree, attaching-no-importance-to-this-conversation-whatsoever attitude combined with the rubbing it inny-ness of my reply was probably the last thing he needed and as I walked up the (44) stairs back to my section I did vaguely wonder if Mr Smith might take my advice and rid himself of the offending 'do.

I then promptly thought sod it, made myself a cuppa and treated myself to two digestive biscuits, which I dunked joyously and managed a) not to have them snap off and fall into my cup, and b) to avoid getting crumbs in my silly beard only for me not to notice them till someone pointed it out in an extremely loud voice prompting everyone to turn to look.