Return of The Crazy
Mar. 22nd, 2010 08:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mousmeAh, off-hours at the RCMP. This was quite possibly the most surreal conversation I've had since speaking with the Queen of the Universe.
Me: "GRC-RCMP Montréal bonjour, good afternoon!"
Male Caller: "Yeah, are you guys going to come help me with my problem, or what?"
Me: "What seems to be the trouble, sir?"
MC: "I keep calling, but no one's coming to arrest these guys?"
Me: "Okay, why don't you tell me what's going on? What's the nature of your complaint?"
MC: "My landlords are growing pot in the other apartments."
Me: "I see. For that you'll have to contact your local police. I can provide you with the number and connect you, if you want."
MC: "No, they don't want to help, they're all in on it together. It's the Russian mob!"
Me: "The Russian mob."
MC: "Yeah. They're forcing the other tenants to move out, but we're not going to be intimidated!"
Me: "I see. If someone is threatening you, that's also the jurisdiction of the local police. I can connect us to them now, and we'll speak to them together."
MC: "They're not threatening us. They're using voodoo to hurt us!"
Me: o_O "Voodoo?"
MC: "Yeah! They're sending electric shocks up through the floors using voodoo!"
Me: ...
MC: "The elderly lady down the hall says she can feel them too. We thought she was nuts but it turns out she's not."
Me: *deadpan* "Well, voodoo certainly doesn't come under the RCMP's jurisdiction. For your other two problems, though, like I said, it'll be your local police."
MC: "They won't help us. We've made dozens of complaints but they say they don't have a record of any of them."
Me: "In that case, I suggest asking for your file number when you make your next complaint."
MC: "No! I want the RCMP to tell them to do their jobs!"
Me: "I'm afraid that's not within our purview. You can, however, go along official channels and make a complaint that they are not following the code of ethics, and that you would like Internal Affairs to investigate. I can provide you with that number as well."
MC: "No, they're all in it together. Why aren't you helping me?"
Me: "I am attempting to help you, sir, by giving you the available options."
MC: "If you won't help me, we're just going to go up there, break down their door, and take care of them ourselves!"
Me: "Sir, I remind you that you're on a recorded line. Uttering threats against your neighbour is a criminal offense, and this could be used as evidence should you choose to follow through on that threat."
MC: "You people are useless! I pay your goddamned salary and I still have to take matters into my own hands. You're telling me I have no choice!"
Me: "Sir, I have given you two perfectly viable options. If you choose neither of those, I can't help you further. But you do have a choice."
MC: "No I don't!" *swears colourfully at me and hangs up*
So, yeah. That was my weekend. Pot-growing, Russian mobster voodoo practitioners of DOOM.
Me: "GRC-RCMP Montréal bonjour, good afternoon!"
Male Caller: "Yeah, are you guys going to come help me with my problem, or what?"
Me: "What seems to be the trouble, sir?"
MC: "I keep calling, but no one's coming to arrest these guys?"
Me: "Okay, why don't you tell me what's going on? What's the nature of your complaint?"
MC: "My landlords are growing pot in the other apartments."
Me: "I see. For that you'll have to contact your local police. I can provide you with the number and connect you, if you want."
MC: "No, they don't want to help, they're all in on it together. It's the Russian mob!"
Me: "The Russian mob."
MC: "Yeah. They're forcing the other tenants to move out, but we're not going to be intimidated!"
Me: "I see. If someone is threatening you, that's also the jurisdiction of the local police. I can connect us to them now, and we'll speak to them together."
MC: "They're not threatening us. They're using voodoo to hurt us!"
Me: o_O "Voodoo?"
MC: "Yeah! They're sending electric shocks up through the floors using voodoo!"
Me: ...
MC: "The elderly lady down the hall says she can feel them too. We thought she was nuts but it turns out she's not."
Me: *deadpan* "Well, voodoo certainly doesn't come under the RCMP's jurisdiction. For your other two problems, though, like I said, it'll be your local police."
MC: "They won't help us. We've made dozens of complaints but they say they don't have a record of any of them."
Me: "In that case, I suggest asking for your file number when you make your next complaint."
MC: "No! I want the RCMP to tell them to do their jobs!"
Me: "I'm afraid that's not within our purview. You can, however, go along official channels and make a complaint that they are not following the code of ethics, and that you would like Internal Affairs to investigate. I can provide you with that number as well."
MC: "No, they're all in it together. Why aren't you helping me?"
Me: "I am attempting to help you, sir, by giving you the available options."
MC: "If you won't help me, we're just going to go up there, break down their door, and take care of them ourselves!"
Me: "Sir, I remind you that you're on a recorded line. Uttering threats against your neighbour is a criminal offense, and this could be used as evidence should you choose to follow through on that threat."
MC: "You people are useless! I pay your goddamned salary and I still have to take matters into my own hands. You're telling me I have no choice!"
Me: "Sir, I have given you two perfectly viable options. If you choose neither of those, I can't help you further. But you do have a choice."
MC: "No I don't!" *swears colourfully at me and hangs up*
So, yeah. That was my weekend. Pot-growing, Russian mobster voodoo practitioners of DOOM.
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Peeps are craaaaaazy.
Date: 2010-03-22 02:51 pm (UTC)Sometime in 2001:
Me: Customer service, this is Kari, how may I help you this morning?
Man: Yeah. I'm calling about my Cadillac. The girl I spoke to yesterday said I'd be getting one.
Me: I'm sorry, sir, I'm not sure you're calling the correct number. This is *Name of Company*. We offer assistance and information concerning the repairing of your credit.
Man: Yeah, I know, but the girl I spoke to said I'd be getting a Cadillac. I want it in the color I asked for.
Me: (amused, but still befuddled) Color, sir?
Man: Yeah. I sent a fax.
Me: One moment, sir, I'll see if we've received it.
(going to front, picking up stack of faxes. Bottom one has customer's name and number on it. I read it and return to my desk.)
Me: Hello, Mr.X?
Man: Yeah. You get the fax?
Me: Yes, I have it right here. It reads, " HI. WOULD LIKE CADILLAC IN SCREAMING PINK. DELIVERY EXPECTED MAY 20. SINCERELY, MR.X."
Is that correct, sir.
Man: Yep. Would like it detailed.
Me: Mr. X, I think there has been a misunderstanding. As a credit repair and information service, what we offer is a
Man: A what now?
Me: A ca-ta-logue. A book.
Man: Damn stupid idea. *click*
Me: *Hysterical laughter.* (Pinned fax to bulletin board for a while.)
*G*
There you have it.
Love reading this journal, would like to get to know ya better. Kitty was telling me about your awesome fic last night. Can I read some too?
Kari
Re: Peeps are craaaaaazy.
Date: 2010-03-22 03:01 pm (UTC)Cadillac.
That's awesome.
Link to fic has been sent by PM. :)
Re: Peeps are craaaaaazy.
Date: 2010-03-22 04:14 pm (UTC)