Thursday, October 18, 2012

I fucking LOVE my job

We have this customer - a really, really, big one - whose accountant has called me several times. He called today and asked for “Tammy”, and our wonderful office manager blurts out “Don’t ever call her Tammy.”

Mind you, I am laughing hysterically over this as she transfers him to my office. I’m not a big fan of being called Tammy, but as I grow older, I’m a teeny tiny bit less resistant to it. (I may still punch you in the nose if you call me it, however.) In a business setting? Call me whatever the fuck you want as long as you pay your bills on time - which they do.

I’m still laughing when I pick up the phone. Blah blah blah - business speak - blah blah blah. Then he blurts out “You always laugh when I call you. How are you so happy all the time? You’re pretty strange.” I tell him I make sure I take my pink pills every morning, and if he’d like some, I can ask my shrink if they’d write a script for him.

He decides right then that his life goal is to piss me off. I dared him to try. I double dog dared him.

Then we’re talking about how I dislike being called Tammy and why. I tell him about the clueless sales rep I used to deal with who INSISTED my name was Pamela Wilson. How you get that out of my name I’m not quite sure, unless maybe you have a hearing problem.  The best part was he would email me at “” and every time he got my name wrong in person, I would give him a new business card.

So I’m telling Mr. Flugenhyphen that (people never get his last name right, so I gave him a new one), and as we’re getting off the phone he says, “Have a great weekend, Pamela.”

If he thinks that’s going to piss me off, he’s going to be disappointed. It takes a lot more than that…

Posted by Matty on 10/18 at 05:01 PM