Profile for jamesthegill:
Erm...yeah. 25, phone-monkey for a large telecommunications company, rides a Suzuki 600 Bandit (usually into roundabouts). Should you feel the urge to contact me then go and lie down in a darkened room for an hour or so, then the feeling should pass.
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Erm...yeah. 25, phone-monkey for a large telecommunications company, rides a Suzuki 600 Bandit (usually into roundabouts). Should you feel the urge to contact me then go and lie down in a darkened room for an hour or so, then the feeling should pass.
Recent front page messages:
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Best answers to questions:
» Call Centres
Phone box blues
As part of the order process we're supposed to ask customers if they want their telephone number in the phone book. Yesterday I was setting up a 'phone line for an old dear who was doddering about in the background while I was chatting to her daughter.
"So, do you want your mum's number in the phone book?"
"MUM! Do you want your number in the phone book?"
"Why would I want my number in the phone box? I'll get all sorts of pervy calls from dirty old men thinking I'm a prostitute! I don't mind the pervy calls but I don't want them thinking I'm a whore!"
I was so glad the daughter couldn't see me struggling to keep a straight face.
Then, today, I was sat reading Veronica Mars quotes I'd emailed to myself to stop myself getting bored when I hear from the chap next to me:
"No, don't worry, I'll do it as fast as I can."
"..."
"No, you won't run out of air, don't worry."
"..."
"Don't worry, our phone boxes are not airtight. You'll be fine."
"..."
"You're not in a vacuum! Our phone boxes aren't air tight, you won't run out of oxygen."
"..."
"JUST OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR AND LET SOME NEW AIR IN SO YOU DON'T WORRY ABOUT SUFFOCATING THEN!"
(Sat 5th Sep 2009, 19:48, More)
Phone box blues
As part of the order process we're supposed to ask customers if they want their telephone number in the phone book. Yesterday I was setting up a 'phone line for an old dear who was doddering about in the background while I was chatting to her daughter.
"So, do you want your mum's number in the phone book?"
"MUM! Do you want your number in the phone book?"
"Why would I want my number in the phone box? I'll get all sorts of pervy calls from dirty old men thinking I'm a prostitute! I don't mind the pervy calls but I don't want them thinking I'm a whore!"
I was so glad the daughter couldn't see me struggling to keep a straight face.
Then, today, I was sat reading Veronica Mars quotes I'd emailed to myself to stop myself getting bored when I hear from the chap next to me:
"No, don't worry, I'll do it as fast as I can."
"..."
"No, you won't run out of air, don't worry."
"..."
"Don't worry, our phone boxes are not airtight. You'll be fine."
"..."
"You're not in a vacuum! Our phone boxes aren't air tight, you won't run out of oxygen."
"..."
"JUST OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR AND LET SOME NEW AIR IN SO YOU DON'T WORRY ABOUT SUFFOCATING THEN!"
(Sat 5th Sep 2009, 19:48, More)
» The Boss
My boss
My boss was a bully. Always on at me to work Saturdays, always haranguing me about TPS reports, lording it over the other guys I worked with too. Mind you, that all changed when I had this hypnotherapy session which really changed my outlook, I moved a wall from my cubicle to give me a better view, ripped down his stupid motivational banners, destroyed a fax machine and stole his parking space – and despite this I got promoted!
Unfortunately the two other guys I was working with got sacked so we hatched a plan to steal fractions of pennies from the company – it worked a little too well and we ended up with nearly a third of a million. Anyway, long story short, the quiet mumbly guy who everyone ignored ended burning the entire place down. Still, I’m in construction now, which suits me better.
(Fri 19th Jun 2009, 13:17, More)
My boss
My boss was a bully. Always on at me to work Saturdays, always haranguing me about TPS reports, lording it over the other guys I worked with too. Mind you, that all changed when I had this hypnotherapy session which really changed my outlook, I moved a wall from my cubicle to give me a better view, ripped down his stupid motivational banners, destroyed a fax machine and stole his parking space – and despite this I got promoted!
Unfortunately the two other guys I was working with got sacked so we hatched a plan to steal fractions of pennies from the company – it worked a little too well and we ended up with nearly a third of a million. Anyway, long story short, the quiet mumbly guy who everyone ignored ended burning the entire place down. Still, I’m in construction now, which suits me better.
(Fri 19th Jun 2009, 13:17, More)
» Buses
Bus FAIL.
It was a nice sunny day a few summers ago. I was lounging in Hyde Park with a few friends, having had a few cans of cider and a kick-about. The time came, all too quickly when you're having fun, to part our ways and I sauntered out towards Hyde Park Corner intending to walk towards Green Park and onwards to Victoria. As I walked out onto the busy pavement I noticed a rather attractive young lady walk past dressed in very little, carrying bags of shopping and wearing flip-flops.
"Hmm," thinks I, "that footwear is a tad inappropriate for a busy London street."
As if by magic she stumbled and fell, dropping a bag of shopping and skinning her knee. Given thatI'm a gentleman she was hot I immediately rushed over to her aid, picking up her shopping, getting Muller Light all over my hand ("don't worry about it love, no use crying over spilt yoghurt") and generally seeing to her well being while others ignored her. This worked well, we had a brief chat and I came away with her number. Always a fan of a dramatic exit I noticed an old Routemaster lumbering up the road from Knightsbridge. I bade her farewell and with impeccable timing, swung my arm out, catching the grabrail and leaping towards the rear platform.
And missing. I clipped my foot on the edge of the bus, stumbling alongside until the yoghurt on my right hand conspired against me and I slipped down and faceplanted in the middle of the bus lane. (It was at this point that my first thought should've been something other than "that reminds me, I haven't seen Raiders of the Lost Ark in a while") Thankfully, the bus stopped a matter of metres up the road and I was able to clamber aboard, blood streaming from my nose and no real front left on my jeans any longer. The best part about this tale came when I dropped my sorry self next to a elderly woman who said, with the best understatement I've ever heard, "you ought to be more careful there son, these buses can be dangerous."
Unsurprisingly, I didn't get a response from the text I sent yoghurt girl a few days later, either.
(Thu 25th Jun 2009, 21:37, More)
Bus FAIL.
It was a nice sunny day a few summers ago. I was lounging in Hyde Park with a few friends, having had a few cans of cider and a kick-about. The time came, all too quickly when you're having fun, to part our ways and I sauntered out towards Hyde Park Corner intending to walk towards Green Park and onwards to Victoria. As I walked out onto the busy pavement I noticed a rather attractive young lady walk past dressed in very little, carrying bags of shopping and wearing flip-flops.
"Hmm," thinks I, "that footwear is a tad inappropriate for a busy London street."
As if by magic she stumbled and fell, dropping a bag of shopping and skinning her knee. Given that
And missing. I clipped my foot on the edge of the bus, stumbling alongside until the yoghurt on my right hand conspired against me and I slipped down and faceplanted in the middle of the bus lane. (It was at this point that my first thought should've been something other than "that reminds me, I haven't seen Raiders of the Lost Ark in a while") Thankfully, the bus stopped a matter of metres up the road and I was able to clamber aboard, blood streaming from my nose and no real front left on my jeans any longer. The best part about this tale came when I dropped my sorry self next to a elderly woman who said, with the best understatement I've ever heard, "you ought to be more careful there son, these buses can be dangerous."
Unsurprisingly, I didn't get a response from the text I sent yoghurt girl a few days later, either.
(Thu 25th Jun 2009, 21:37, More)