I am my father's publisher.
Here is his latest "piece".
My experience with people who owe me money usually goes like this:
|
Here is his latest "piece".
My experience with people who owe me money usually goes like this:
Sorry Mr. W This transaction must be completed by snail mail. I comply. It comes back. (much later, without money) I call. I'm on hold for 15 minutes. During that time, I hear, over and over, the message that they are very innovative when it comes to customer service and that there is nothing too good for me. Playing in the background is a drum machine sound bite going constantly in circles. I finally talk with a guy from somewhere in the orient who barely speaks English. He wants my social security number, date of birth, blood type, mother's middle name before birth, and the name of my favorite NFL team. I comply. He finally feels that I am, Indeed, or MAY indeed be some kind of David Williams. He then says "May I have your password, please?" I , who have limited minutes, have now been on the phone for about 35 min. I say, " Maybe in a former life, I may have gotten a pass word, maybe four or five years ago, but right now, I have NO clue what it is. He says "Well, Everybody just got to have a password." I say, "Here is my pass word. ##****####>" He hangs up. I experience instant remorse, get on line and retrieve my friggin pass word, and call back. This time, in order to lubricate the process somewhat, I drink heavily before making the call.
I'm on hold again....the message, the drum machine, finally I get Rosita in Oaxaca. We get acquainted, I tell some one line jokes, she gets the password. Life is good. She says "what can I do for ju mester William." I say, "I'm just trying to get my money that your company owes me." Suddenly, what was becoming what could have been a wonderful long-term relationship, begins to go south. There could be some sort of a pun there if you are so inclined.
Rosita begins explaining their smail policy, in detail. I get up. Go to the kitchen. Get another drinky poo. Watch a re-run of Dragnet. Return to the floor. She is just finishing.
I say, "Look Rosita, You sound like a nice person. Help me out here. What would you do if you were me?" She says, (I can hear her turning off the recorder that is used for training purposes only) Look I gots 14 little keds, a drunken, miserable husband, and live in a cardboard box with two cheekens and my inlaws. What ju would do ef you were me?"
Well, 6 months later I receive 10% of the money.......in pesos. I feel GREAT. I have won! Isn't that so sick that we call that winning? I put the whole thing in an envelope and sent it straight away to................................... Rosita.
Have a nice day.
Dad
Labels: comedy, customerservice, DavidWilliams, family
| posted by Unknown @ 4/07/2007 05:35:00 PM
