I had cause to ring a builder’s merchant today to order a couple of dumpy bags of sub-base.
The lad on the other end of the phone introduced himself as “Kevin”, asked me if I had an account and when I said “No”, he muttered something that I didn’t catch, said that he’d ring me back and put the phone down on me.
I did some more paperwork for an hour or so and gradually built up a head of steam as I waited for him to call back.
Eventually I rang them and got ” Kevin” again…told him that I’d rung earlier and he had said that he’d ring me back…he very curtly said “Sorry about that, what did you want?”…I then ordered all make and manner of goodies and listened as he typed in and gave me the price of my various purchases….
By the time I’d finished I could have built a row of Barratt-boxes with the goods that I apparently wanted. He then asked me for a delivery address….
”Stick the fucking lot up yer arse, ya ill-mannered Cunt” I cheerfully replied as I put the phone down on him…..
Fuck me, I hadn’t been sat more than a minute until the phone rang and it was “Kevin” calling me worse than a Cunt!…must have rung that last number thing.
We then spent 5 minutes exchanging witty banter until he told me that he was going to find out who I was and where I lived from his “pal” who could get an address from a land-line phone number…..told the cheeky Cunt not to bother his pal and gave him my name and directions to my (vast) front-door.
If I stop posting in the next couple of days, Cunters….assume that I’ve been Jimmy Hoffad by an irate bath-sealant warrior.
Nominated by: Dick Foxchaser-Fiddler