Through a series of mishaps I’ve found myself with my father’s cell phone for the last few days, and it sure gets some peculiar calls. Seconds ago the shit rang, and despite the weird “855” area code, I picked up anyway out of sheer boredom.
“Hello,” said an obviously automated voice, and before I could reply with something fittingly crude, suddenly my phone was ringing as though I was making a call. Intrigued, I stayed on the line to see where this phone vortex would take me. Suddenly it’s the first automated chick’s sister on the line telling me, “All of our operators are currently busy, but please stay on the—”
I hung up before she could finish her canned spiel. I don’t know what company that was for—if my dad’s phone trolls are anything like mine likely some hooey about solar panels or re-something’ing my car’s warrantee—but that sure is one ineffective way to reach potential customers. That’s like when you get a call from somebody who immediately tells you to hang on for a second. Like, muthafucka you called me. Get your shit together.
I guess automated people have no manners either.