So that's where I left it. Thanks, chaps!
438 posts • joined 9 Oct 2007
Thousands of 'em. I was one of the poor buggers working in the call centre for "A Major UK Electrical Retailer", as they are sometimes known, and while some of the calls were genuine complaints, either about the products they'd bought or the arsey service they'd got in a store, many of them were either total bollocks or completely insane.
Had a customer phone up in tears, telling us she'd bought a camcorder that was dud and the store refused to exchange or refund, even though it was only a few days old. I called the store in question and had a chat with the manager who told me "Oh, her... yep, she brought this camcorder in and it was completely buggered. Scratched and bashed about, big cracks down the casing, and when we opened it up, a ton of makeup powder fell out. She's obviously wrecked it herself so we told her it wasn't covered under warranty".
I had the joyous task of calling her back to explain. That went well...like buggery it did. She went absolutely bananas, screaming down the phone (and I mean it), threatening to go to the store and kick off, break their windows and stab the manager, and generally being rather displeased.
Any road up, as per company instructions that all threats of violence should be reported to the police, I called the plod and passed on her details.
The daftest one I remember was someone saying their phone started to float in mid air one evening, and tried to smash its way out of the window. I assured the customer we didn't sell flying phones.
Then there was the one my mate took about a printer with a live lizard in the box.
Beer icon because... beer.
Long ago, when mail order catalogues were a thing, my mum ran a Grattan's agency. One of her friends at work ordered a keep net for her husband's birthday present; an ideal choice for the guy, seeing as he was a keen angler.
Anyhow, the package arrived, with a note saying the exact model was out of stock but they'd substituted it with a similar item of comparable quality. Mum's friend took it home, gave it to husband, who, without opening the thing, took it on his next fishing trip with his mates. Got to the bank side, unpacked his tackle, opened the box and took out his brand new... air rifle. Oops.
Before anyone doubts this, back in the 1960s, mail order catalogues very definitely sold air rifles, pistols, and even - upon seeing the appropriate certificates - shotguns.
Not IT related but magnetic field related...
A band I knew back in the 80s spent a lot of time and money recording their forthcoming album in their own very well equipped studio and, when the recording was completed, took the master tapes home to keep them safe. Except... (and I'm sure you know where this is going)
One of 'em - the utter bladder head - put the tapes down on top of one of his hideously expensive and ridiculously powerful stereo speakers, had a few celebratory drinks and played a lot of music through his stereo at very high volume. For hours. No, he wasn't the drummer. Bass player and musical director of the band.
I worked for British Coal's IT dept in Sheffield, many years ago. One of the staff - who was always having computer related problems of some kind - called me to say her keyboard had stopped working. This particular person would always, without fail, turn every minor problem into a huge drama with crying, swearing, threats and, on several occasions, throwing stuff. How she stayed employed is beyond me.
Went to her desk with replacement, found the keyboard cable her - keyboard, that is - dangling off the desk, unplugged.
Plugged it back in, showed her everything was working fine. Explained the keyboard was unplugged. Got a huffy "How the fuck was I supposed to know?"
Another time, same person, same problem. This time the keyboard was full of staples, paper clips and those annoying bits of paper out of hole punches. Turned out she and her mate thought it was a great idea to throw stuff at each other across the desks.
I don't believe in any sort of deity or karma or whatnot but shortly after that, her car was nicked from outside work.
Those who think standing on a Lego brick barefoot is painful have obviously never stood on a UK mains plug.
As for eating weird stuff, my daughter has pica, and has eaten all kinds of things including chalk, wax crayons, play sand and paper towels. She didn't much like the play sand coming out the other end.
Ordinary graphite pencils, yes. Coloured pencils are more difficult, having a mixture of clay and wax in the core. That's the sort used in voting booths in the UK. It takes a bit of time and preparation to erase a mark made with one of those and, unless you're really careful, tampering is evident.
“Laughter is a special, higher-order function that only humans possess,”
Starting from an incorrect premise is always going to give dodgy results. Laughter is derived from the standard fear response of other primates. There is evidence to suggest human laugher is still an involuntary fear response, since many jokes depend on the unexpected, or the subject being placed in an uncomfortable situation.
I will never, as long as there's breath in my body and a hole in my arse, allow one of these things - or a competitor's equivalent into my home. All phones have voice recognition/"helpers" off, all other devices are dumber than a box of rocks. The only recording capability my PC has is my DAW interface for guitars and other outboard instruments. Vocal mics connected for singy bits only.
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