Excuse me, sir?

I never intentioned this blog to have a lot to do with my job, but this situation screamed for a post. So forgive me for the journey I'm about to take you on. It'll be worth it, I promise.

Being a phones supervisor, I get to talk to a lot of crazy people. Crazy people are usually pissed, and pissed off people can let some language fly. As I covered in my last post, doing this will generally get you nowhere with me. But the guy I spoke to this morning took it to a whole different level.

I've been cussed at a lot in my 3+ years in this position. If there's a curse word that exists, I've heard it, and I've heard it applied as some sort of adjective to me. I've been called a Jehovah's Witness because I charged someone an installment fee (not sure how that works, since I am unfamiliar with the faith. apparently, Jehovah's like to charge for paper? never knew that.). But the guy I spoke with this morning called me the N-word. Not nice, not a ninny, not a nancy boy. The big N-word. Huck Finn traveling down the river with a guy named N-word Jim, N-word. I'll give you a moment to let that sink in a bit.

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Wrapped your mind around that yet? Didn't think so. Not only am I one of the whitest people you'll ever meet, how is that something you say on the phone, regardless of how pissed you are? So, as the post title suggests, I said, "excuse me, sir?". To which he replied, "whatever, go f-yourself". Clearly this gentleman was in rare form. However, this would be the end of the line for him. I told him that based on his language, I would be hanging up on him. When he started to talk again, I interrupted and let him know if he wanted, he could call back 24 hours a day. He kept on talking, so I told him to have a good day and hung up on him. Now there's a sweet feeling for you.