Some people I talk to on the phone at work make me want to throw things.

[apocalypsos]

Dear Annoying Dumbasses,

When I call you, tell you I'm from the shipping company, and inform you as politely as possible that your package is undeliverable to the address you wrote on it, please for the love of frosted donuts, would you stop asking me in a snooty tone of voice, "Well, why can't you deliver it?"

Hmm. Let me think. Perhaps it has to do with the fifty diarrhetic gorillas standing guard at the front door with steaming piles of excremental weaponry and spot-on throwing aim. Perhaps it's because our driver was not prepared to fight an entire regiment of medieval knights armed to the teeth with every sharp instrument and boiling hot substance they could get their grubby paws on. Perhaps it has everything to do with the fear-inducing sight of the company's secretarial pool greeting everyone who walks through the front door dressed as the characters from "The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert" and singing disco hits at the top of their bloody lungs.

Or maybe, just maybe, it's because you put the wrong fucking address on it.

But hey, could still be the gorillas. You never know, really.

Comments

[gem225.livejournal.com]

Dorks. Morons. Dipshits.

Or maybe they're just bait. You know, for sharks to eat.

Well, one can hope, right?

*hugs*

Gail