For a good time…

…call Ginger at the Morrisville, NC branch of TruGreen.  Her number is:  919.481.1172.  Please be sure to ask for the High Priestess Kang stalking special.

In 2010, fed up with my trainwreck of a garden, I contracted TruGreen for service.  I freely admit that I was beyond excited since Dock wants nothing to do with yard maintenance and there is very little I can do with my deteriorating spine.  Alas, like many things in this wicked world, TruGreen broke my heart.  Shattered it in a billion pieces, I tell you.

TruGreen couldn’t be arsed to keep to its agreement.  As I mumbled many times over, it was if I had to call TruGreen and remind it that I had bags of money at my house with its name on it.  The service was that horrendous.

2011 rolled around and I figured I would give them a chance at redemption, mostly out of sheer laziness on my part.  This was a very poor decision.

After waiting twelve weeks for service that should be performed at six-to-eight week. intervals, I gave up.  Then…the phone call came.  TruGreen wanted to swing by to seed my lawn for a not so nominal fee.  At this point, I cancelled the agreement.  It’s just not worth doing business with an organization that drives you batty.  The customer service rep I spoke with was entirely ambivalent but agreed to terminate the contract.

Shortly after noon today, a TruGreen truck was idling right in front of my house.  Rather than dealing with otherwise lovely men who do not speak English well, I called the local office.  It is my lucky day.  Ginger answered the phone.

I begin to explain the situation, express my displeasure with the truck idling outside of my house, etc… and cunty Ginger says “Well, it’s not as if they are stalking you.”

Aaaaah.  Wrong.  Words.

/me waggles tentacle

You know, in this stellar economy, where jobs are abundant, it would be prudent to maintain a professional decorum lest one ends up with a pink slip in their grubby paws and no opportunity for unemployment.  Either Ginger is sucking some major TruGreen cock or she is as dumb as a fence post.  Perhaps it’s both.  I have never met her.

I will say that I do not plan on meeting Ginger.  I find her narrow lexicon tedious and do not necessarily appreciate dealing with a snotty customer service troll who thinks she is omnipotent because she is paid to speak on the phone.

Look…we all know customer service jobs suck.  We all know these people are abused by angry customers and they’re not compensated well.  That’s fine.  But when you turn your vitriol on me, please do not sound appalled when I call you a pedantic, little shit in return.

So…if you’re looking for something to do today, go ahead and call Ginger.  Alternatively, if you live in the Raleigh-Durham area of North Carolina, you should consider refraining from contracting TruGreen.  Unless, of course, you like talking naughty cunts like Ginger.

POLICY ANNOUNCEMENT

This is the Central Scrutinizer.

As per our new policy it has been decided that the word Love, in its verb form, is to be removed from use in all languages. This is to take effect immediately, internationally.

This is due in large part to continued shallow and meaningless usage, bordering on empty hyperbole.

Love may continue to be discussed as a subject, and as a concept, however you will no longer be able to say “I love you”, only show it.

This policy decision will be reviewed on an annual basis.

Go forth and show, not say.

TCS

WOTD: cynical

Dictionary.com defines the adjective cynical as “bitterly or sneeringly distrustful, contemptuous or pessimistic.” Haha, I’m totally impressed by their use of the word, “sneeringly.” Well done.

Anyway, we’re so bloody cynical at work. Not only has it gotten to the point where we assume that everything will be shit (that’s a given) we actually place bets on just how shit it will be. Right now three colleagues and myself have an office sweepstakes going on about how many people will bother showing up for tonight’s open house. The lowest bet is zero, followed by two, three, and my rather optimistic five. The winner will get a bottle of cheap wine.

We’re teachers, okay? We don’t get paid enough to buy anything decent or expensive.

Update: The person who guessed that zero people would attend is the winner. She’ll get a plastic container of Great White Aussie Chardonnay.

Stop complaining about my complaining!

I like to complain, although it’s a strain,
On your overly optimistic ears,
Like a Tourette’s tic I find it’s cathartic,
It has kept me out of prison for years,
Don’t understand? Well my seeming command,
Of my actions is not all it appears,
Your complaining about my complaining,
Besides causing hypocritical jeers,
Takes me to the edge, and this much I pledge,
If I do crack you‘ll soon know it my dears,
When I complain it’s to keep myself sane,
To stop my system from jamming its gears,
Accept when I rant, and maybe I shan’t,
Tear a strip off of your collective rears!

No Milk Situation

The very indication,
Of a no milk situation,
Is a source of office crisis.
Always causing great distress.
Oh, whatever shall we do?
This surely can’t be true.
Have we no relief or remedy,
For this lack of milk emergency?
Well, you could go to the store,
Forthwith and buy some more.
And solve this milky lack.
Or just learn to drink it black.