On Saturday Blonde Co-worker, my sister and I were quietly plugging away at our various duties here at work: filing, researching, cleaning, labelling - that sort of chilly January Saturday stuff. The phone rang, and my co-worker answered it. The following conversation is verbatim. Really, I swear.
"Good Afternoon, Itsy Bitsy Computers."
"Hello? I can't find your door."
"We're at XYZ...oh, are you in the parking lot?"
"Yes, I can't find the door."
"Straight ahead. Just walk straight ahead. See me in the window? I'm waving at you...."
My sister and I are looking now too, out the large retail window at the front of the store. There is a neon sign that reads OPEN, and it's right next to, you know, the door.
The woman is standing in a parking spot just about 12 feet from said door, cell phone to her ear. "I just don't see..."
"Look up."
I swear, she looked up. At the sky.
"Never mind," said my darling employee. "I'm coming to get you." She stepped forward five paces, and opened the door.
"Oh!" says the woman.
You know what else? She was here on Tuesday. As in, four days previous.
Poor thing, now that's a bad day.
3 comments:
Uh ... no. That's a coke habit.
Geez
Really? Hunh. I had asked my co-worker if she thought she was drunk or high, and L thought she was just very upset to have another virus after such a short time. But together we have just a little less than NO experience with heavy drugs, not sure I'd recognize the signs!
How *do* you put up with these people? Besides using them as book fodder, that is. Although when I worked in customer service I was surprised at how patient I acted on the outside when on the inside I just felt like shaking the stupidity out of people...
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