Friday, May 30, 2008

It is well known that my day job is a Sisyphean nightmare of legendary proportions. I provide phone support to the customers of several major retailers. In the process, I've witnessed every mauling of the English language anyone could reasonably expect. Sorry human dignity, you've just gotten 20 years with no parole and people too dim to realize that extended warranties are a scam are your new bunkmate.

Over time, you become desensitized to the normal abominations. The various lazy drawls and hyper active dialects stop impressing you.

It is the cartoon characters that you never get used to. I've had all kinds. People with voices that make Mike Tyson sound like Barry White. People who talk seventy-miles-per-hour. People who pronounce "Baton Rouge" as "Belange'" Heck, I had a guy from Brooklyn call once who literally reversed what words would and wouldn't be plural, just like Sal on Futurama.

And a few moments ago, I had a woman who started every answer to every inquiry with 'uh-huh?' and appended it to the front of random sentences and paragraphs. Every question: What is your name? What is your phone number? What are the numbers at the bottom of your receipt? All answered, yes, but with a vapid "uh-huh" coming beforehand. If the call hadn't mercifully dropped I might well have been driven mad.

I'm not sure what this really means but I will say this: if the whole world is a twisted simulation of a long-dead reality I really hope it is more like Dark City and less like the Matrix.


Addendum: Someone just called in with a warranty on a cassette walkman. Purchased in 2008. I'm amazed.

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