(no subject)
"your mama's so fat, she sat on a quarter and a booger came out of george washington's nose!"
wow, the things that are funny to you when you're stoned. i have an exam tomorrow in a class called "Music of the Classical Period." i just cannot bring myself to study for it... see, i'm a huge dork, so generally i can get interested in whatever i'm studying about, but this is just brutal. i like classical music every once and awhile, but i just can't get past the fact that we talk about beethoven, mozart, haydn, etc. like they're our homies, when really no one who has ever heard them play is still alive to talk about it. we don't have footage of their concerts or even an original recording of any of their music, do we? these guys are 250 years old, let them rest in peace already!
oh my god, i'm going to miss sharing a room with laura! she has been asleep for about an hour, and she just randomly said, "GIFT CERTIFICATE." i was like "laura, what?!" and she says, "didn't you just ask me a question... no like a little while ago, and i never answered it?" hahaha, no laura, i generally don't ask questions to sleeping people, and if i did, i'm sure the answer would not have been "GIFT CERTIFICATE."
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i don't know if i've ever really explained on here what my job is all about...
basically, i sit at a computer for five hours straight wearing headphones with a crazy mouthpiece. i stare at the screen, waiting for a name to pop up so that i can promptly say, "Hello, John Smith, please!"
[next time you get disgruntled because a telemarketer screws your name up, have some sympathy! we don't get to rehearse the names... the computers recognize voice data (aka: your "hello?"), so as soon as the name pops up, i have to spit it out-- and i'll tell you, i've had some crazy names. try pronouncing "uyen nguyen" on your first try. I'VE HAD TO DO IT!]
then, either John Smith says, "speaking" or Mrs. Smith gets feisty and asks me 21 questions until she finally gives the phone to John Smith. either way, to make a long story short, my job is to hustle Mr. Smith into applying for a credit card that Bank of America wants him to take. if i'm lucky, he will stay on the phone long enough to hear me effort him a second and third time, and then he will eventually apply for the damn card out of pity...
i don't even know the guy, but i ask him personal questions ranging from his yearly household income to his social security number. (you would be surprised how cooperative most people are!) once i finish asking him the questions (there are about ten), i have to get his permission to tape record the remainder of our conversation so that i can verify all the information i took from him and read him about four minutes-worth of account terms. it's so exhausting.
today at work i was on the phone with a guy who was clearly a spanish-speaking immigrant; in fact, i believe his name was "fernando sanchez-alvarez." i had somehow gotten him to answer my questions, though it was quite obvious that his english was really rusty because i had to repeat each question about 5 times. we were finally at the social security number, when he suddenly PUT ME ON HOLD. i thought, 'okay, weird, but he'll be back in like thirty seconds!' boy (or should i say 'chico'), was i wrong. i sat blankly for AT LEAST 10 minutes, finally debating whether i should hang up or not because a) the application = money in my pocket, and b) he did ask me to hold, so i didn't want to be rude (or at least that's how i justified it). finally, just as i was about to press "disconnect" his wife answered the phone! i asked for fernando again, and he came back and gave me the rest of his information. i swear i was on this call for about 20 minutes at this point... got to the recording... and BAM he hung up on me. i must have scared him off with all the crazy american terms like interest rates and penalty APRs. anyway, you don't get credit for a sale unless you read the whole disclosure, so all that waiting was for nothing!
i guess that's what i get for trying to hustle a foreigner.
wow, the things that are funny to you when you're stoned. i have an exam tomorrow in a class called "Music of the Classical Period." i just cannot bring myself to study for it... see, i'm a huge dork, so generally i can get interested in whatever i'm studying about, but this is just brutal. i like classical music every once and awhile, but i just can't get past the fact that we talk about beethoven, mozart, haydn, etc. like they're our homies, when really no one who has ever heard them play is still alive to talk about it. we don't have footage of their concerts or even an original recording of any of their music, do we? these guys are 250 years old, let them rest in peace already!
oh my god, i'm going to miss sharing a room with laura! she has been asleep for about an hour, and she just randomly said, "GIFT CERTIFICATE." i was like "laura, what?!" and she says, "didn't you just ask me a question... no like a little while ago, and i never answered it?" hahaha, no laura, i generally don't ask questions to sleeping people, and if i did, i'm sure the answer would not have been "GIFT CERTIFICATE."
---
i don't know if i've ever really explained on here what my job is all about...
basically, i sit at a computer for five hours straight wearing headphones with a crazy mouthpiece. i stare at the screen, waiting for a name to pop up so that i can promptly say, "Hello, John Smith, please!"
[next time you get disgruntled because a telemarketer screws your name up, have some sympathy! we don't get to rehearse the names... the computers recognize voice data (aka: your "hello?"), so as soon as the name pops up, i have to spit it out-- and i'll tell you, i've had some crazy names. try pronouncing "uyen nguyen" on your first try. I'VE HAD TO DO IT!]
then, either John Smith says, "speaking" or Mrs. Smith gets feisty and asks me 21 questions until she finally gives the phone to John Smith. either way, to make a long story short, my job is to hustle Mr. Smith into applying for a credit card that Bank of America wants him to take. if i'm lucky, he will stay on the phone long enough to hear me effort him a second and third time, and then he will eventually apply for the damn card out of pity...
i don't even know the guy, but i ask him personal questions ranging from his yearly household income to his social security number. (you would be surprised how cooperative most people are!) once i finish asking him the questions (there are about ten), i have to get his permission to tape record the remainder of our conversation so that i can verify all the information i took from him and read him about four minutes-worth of account terms. it's so exhausting.
today at work i was on the phone with a guy who was clearly a spanish-speaking immigrant; in fact, i believe his name was "fernando sanchez-alvarez." i had somehow gotten him to answer my questions, though it was quite obvious that his english was really rusty because i had to repeat each question about 5 times. we were finally at the social security number, when he suddenly PUT ME ON HOLD. i thought, 'okay, weird, but he'll be back in like thirty seconds!' boy (or should i say 'chico'), was i wrong. i sat blankly for AT LEAST 10 minutes, finally debating whether i should hang up or not because a) the application = money in my pocket, and b) he did ask me to hold, so i didn't want to be rude (or at least that's how i justified it). finally, just as i was about to press "disconnect" his wife answered the phone! i asked for fernando again, and he came back and gave me the rest of his information. i swear i was on this call for about 20 minutes at this point... got to the recording... and BAM he hung up on me. i must have scared him off with all the crazy american terms like interest rates and penalty APRs. anyway, you don't get credit for a sale unless you read the whole disclosure, so all that waiting was for nothing!
i guess that's what i get for trying to hustle a foreigner.