So today, at my crappy customer service job (which I’ll probably never be able to write about because most readers wouldn’t swallow the sheer amount of crap I deal with as being plausible), I took a phone order for a battery operated children’s mini Porsche. This car is apparently a gift from a certain CEO to the child of a certain REALLY BIG STAR and I was able to help finagle a complex plan to get it there on time. Not because it was for a REALLY BIG STAR’S KID, but because it’s for a kid, and the assistant who was placing the order was actually very polite and not at all demanding or obnoxious or idiotic like 99% of the people I have to talk to.
But hey, I was like three or four degrees away from a REALLY BIG STAR today. And I used the phrase “swallow the sheer amount of crap.” Was your day as cool? I think not.
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