Random morning anecdote
Sep. 24th, 2004 08:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apocalypsosInspired by this metaquotes post ...
For those of you who don't know, a few years back when I was desperate for money, I worked as a telemarketer. Yeah, I know. My seat in hell's all nice and reserved.
So, anyway, one day there were three of us working on a credit-card project in the same row, all of us women. The first woman in the row had her computer connect her to this guy who, as soon as she started in on the spiel that marked her as a telemarketer, asked what color underwear she was wearing. Since we weren't being listened in on at the time, she threw all caution to the wind and said, "Oh, the cutest little lacy red thong panties which I bought with my Juniper Bank Mastercard ..." Aaaaaaand then went right into her script.
What made this whole thing twice as funny was that while she had a voice like the world's most successful phone sex operator, she was an extremely physically unattractive (albeit very nice and very funny) middle-aged woman.
But it got better, because the guy hung up on her, so she scheduled him for an immediate callback and disconnected her phone, so that the computer of the next woman in the queue called him again.
Again, as soon as he realized she was a telemarketer, and one working for the same company, he asked again what color underwear she was wearing. She was a little flustered, because she hadn't thought she was getting the callback, but she blurted out, "Great big white granny panties that I bought with my Juniper Bank Mastercard --"
Again, click. Again, another immediate callback and another disconnect.
This time, I got the callback, and he asked me what color underwear I was wearing. So I said, "What underwear?"
I would have gotten into the credit card pitch, but we all (including the guy on the phone) had gotten to the point where we were laughing so hard we couldn't finish.
And then there was the one I got the first week I was working at the telemarketing place. The computer dialed this woman in California who sounded as if she couldn't get any higher without NASA spacewalking equipment, and as soon as she realized I was a telemarketer, she asked me my name and my age, and then interrupted me to start in on this nice, mellow rant about how I wasn't going to have good things come back to me if I continued in this line of work, that no one would give me love, and that I needed to examine my inner goals.
Ooookay. My inner goals are to pay my bills. I have a job ... therefore, I am accomplishing those goals.
People who get toked up at 3 o'clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday do not have the right to tell me that my crappy job sucks. Unless, of course, they were the guy I was dating at the time, who looked like a shorter Jake Foley. Mmm. He was cute. :)
For those of you who don't know, a few years back when I was desperate for money, I worked as a telemarketer. Yeah, I know. My seat in hell's all nice and reserved.
So, anyway, one day there were three of us working on a credit-card project in the same row, all of us women. The first woman in the row had her computer connect her to this guy who, as soon as she started in on the spiel that marked her as a telemarketer, asked what color underwear she was wearing. Since we weren't being listened in on at the time, she threw all caution to the wind and said, "Oh, the cutest little lacy red thong panties which I bought with my Juniper Bank Mastercard ..." Aaaaaaand then went right into her script.
What made this whole thing twice as funny was that while she had a voice like the world's most successful phone sex operator, she was an extremely physically unattractive (albeit very nice and very funny) middle-aged woman.
But it got better, because the guy hung up on her, so she scheduled him for an immediate callback and disconnected her phone, so that the computer of the next woman in the queue called him again.
Again, as soon as he realized she was a telemarketer, and one working for the same company, he asked again what color underwear she was wearing. She was a little flustered, because she hadn't thought she was getting the callback, but she blurted out, "Great big white granny panties that I bought with my Juniper Bank Mastercard --"
Again, click. Again, another immediate callback and another disconnect.
This time, I got the callback, and he asked me what color underwear I was wearing. So I said, "What underwear?"
I would have gotten into the credit card pitch, but we all (including the guy on the phone) had gotten to the point where we were laughing so hard we couldn't finish.
And then there was the one I got the first week I was working at the telemarketing place. The computer dialed this woman in California who sounded as if she couldn't get any higher without NASA spacewalking equipment, and as soon as she realized I was a telemarketer, she asked me my name and my age, and then interrupted me to start in on this nice, mellow rant about how I wasn't going to have good things come back to me if I continued in this line of work, that no one would give me love, and that I needed to examine my inner goals.
Ooookay. My inner goals are to pay my bills. I have a job ... therefore, I am accomplishing those goals.
People who get toked up at 3 o'clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday do not have the right to tell me that my crappy job sucks. Unless, of course, they were the guy I was dating at the time, who looked like a shorter Jake Foley. Mmm. He was cute. :)
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no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 06:17 am (UTC)I loved that job! The constant offers from CEO's, Presidents and other captains of industry to join them for lunch,dinner, the weekend, week or month all expenses paid, . The callbacks from corporate moguls to talk about the weekend football/golf/baseball game. The looks from the various supervisors as they tried to figure out a way to politely refuse the callbacks without pissing off the various business owners/CEO's.
It was fun.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 06:20 am (UTC)the great and almighty GodHugh's gold lame pants in your icon!no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 06:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 08:49 am (UTC)You have redeemed yourself, my child. *makes sign of the switchblade* Now go thou and telemarket no more. 8-)
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 10:33 am (UTC)I think next time I get called by a telemarketer, I will ask about their underwear---especially if it's a him....
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 10:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 12:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 02:52 pm (UTC)Personally, I doubt it was at all believable, but it was pretty funny.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-24 10:58 pm (UTC)