“Hello and thank you for calling _ _ _ _ _ ’s customer service line. My name is Eva Hughjugs and I’ll be handling all your inquiries today. May I please get your order number, email address, zip code, driver’s license ID number and deviant sexual desires?
This is going to be a fun journey with us today. Not only are we going to solve your customer disputes, I’m going to get you off, RIGHT OVER THE PHONE! We’ve taken a new approach to customer service this year and want YOU to know that your cock’s throbbing vein is our #2 priority! We don’t only want to see you satisfied at the end of this call, we want that satisfaction to come with a huge, gratifying, unadulterated load of lap-spunk!
Now tell me, what is the problem you’re experiencing today? I’m strokin’ it baby…
Where did you buy this particular item? My tits are hard for you…
Can I get a general description of the circumstances surrounding the issue? I’m a double-D, size 2, and ready for that lonely bologna…
Now what are you looking to accomplish here today with our call? That big meat stuffed inside me. Cook me, heal me, feed me, marry me…
I’ve got an understanding of the issues surrounding your particular problem. Now just let me talk to my supervisor to determine the best course of action for your circumstances. OOOhhhhh punch me! Punch me! Harder! Harder!
We’ve decided to honor our money-back guarantee and would like to know the best place to issue you your refund check. JIZZZ BOMBBBBB!!! MONEY LOAD!! I’M DRIPPING! DRIPPING! DRIPPING!
Your case ID# is _ _ _ _ _ _. Your new fuck-friend value code is 696969.
Is there anything else I can help you with today? Cum back soon big boy. I would luv to handle you again! Muah!!”
It’s pretty unsettling to me how when looking for customer service articles, you always seem to find that 3/4 of the information on customer service pages has some form of a picture of some hot female sitting at a desk with a huge smile on her face. Those perfect tits, perfect white-toothed smile, long flowing hair and mini-skirt are bullshit. Almost every fucking service line you call, (if centered in the United States) is some big fat bitch with no life, no friends, and doesn’t give a fuck about how you feel. They’re probably playing solitaire on their cubicle computer like Peter from Office Space and are pissed off because you interrupted their 3rd donut-and-coffee break. If the call is NOT centered in the U.S. it’s definitely in India somewhere; probably in Bombay. The guy will speak with a heavy Indian accent and will have some common, bullshit, American-cliche name, like Rob or John. I had a friend in college from Bombay and he said 85% of the jobs there are customer service center’s for American-based companies.
It’s only fair in today’s technological society- with all the bullshit and hassle that accompanies customer service- that we combine phone-based sex hotlines, with customer service/satisfaction. At least if you’re going to call to bitch somebody out about some connector on your ipod vibrator’s automated anal-bead headphones jack, you can get off while you do it. Ease the stress a little. That’s all I’m sayin’. Get me off and I’ll get off the phone. Put me off and I’ll fucking stab you!
i’m usually really pissed off when i call these places. not sure how’d i jerk off while irate. sounds like a challenge.