Ugh. Social prunes. That's what I said.
I mean, one thing you do wrong.
Okay, so. Writing.
If you've ever read Dante's Inferno, you would know that there are seven layers in hell that consist of the seven sins. Lust, gluttony, greed, and shit and whatever. However, there is an eighth unmentioned layer of hell that even Dante himself was too scared to write about. The eighth layer is in the deepest and darkest corner of Hell and it is right next to Satan himself. Satan sits there and stares at you whilst you burn for your sins. He roasts his marshmallows off the flames coming from your rotting corpse as you scream and beg for forgiveness.
This eighth layer of hell is called customer support.
Obviously, to reach this level of hell, you must have done something pretty bad. Gruesome, horrifying. However, most of the times, some people end up in this layer because of sheer bad luck. Meaning no other job opportunities.
''Thank you for calling customer support. My name is Kate, how may I help you?''
Ah, the false politeness that is customer support. You might think you've seen some of the best acting you can on Broadway or with Mel Gibson when he apologized for his anti Semitic rants, but the art of performance is really in the heart of customer support.
''Of course sir. I understand. Yes, now - Well, I'll try to speak to my supervisor and see what I can do. Yes. Yes sir. If you could just wait a minute sir I'll put you on hold and find a solution.''
Kate sighs and throws her headsets away as she clicks and types furiously.
''This motherfucker. I swear to fucking fuck. Assholes. Customers are a piece of ass eating shit.''
Kate closes her eyes momentarily, and puts her headset back on.
''Thank you for holding on sir. Now, it seems that our possibilites are limited to..''
And it goes on.
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