Gerald and the Indian call centre operative
Our old flat's landline used to be a Mecca for every call centre operative known to man, it got to a point where I used to instinctively know that if it rang between 530PM and 8PM it was 98% assured to be some poor schmuck trying to hawk crap to me. It's also worth noting I am a chap who really enjoys fucking with cold callers.

One shitty winter evening the phone rang in the golden period and the game was afoot! "Hello" I answered in a more dejected and broken up tone than could possibly be imagined, "Hello Sir" replied a cheery Indian gentleman "I am calling you on behalf of ********* Broadband - How much are you paying for your broadband connection?".

Continuing in my wavering and choked up voice I went on to relate that "now wasn't a good time as I'd just been to a funeral" but was countered in perfect call centre tact with "I'm sorry to hear that Sir, but ********* Broadband can offer you a price of £10 per month".

"I'm sorry" I repeated "I've just lost someone very dear to me and it's not a good time" however my new Indian nemesis replied "Yes Sir, but if I can just tell you" before I cut him off with a hysterical trade.

"Look you insensitive shit, I've buried the love of my life, a beautiful man who made every day a joy. Gerald's not 5 hours in the ground and you're trying to sell me fucking broadband?!". There was a short and uncomfortable pause before "May I call you back next week Sir?".

The fucking balls on that guy.
(SpunkyMcSpunkbubble Diddled your nubbin on, Thu 3 Sep 2009, 20:14, Reply)