Who Cares About Your Products!

If you asked me what’s the most annoying thing about Living in London, it’s has to be the bloody sales calls. I mean who in their right mind would want to buy a house, car, refinance their house loans, and just today getting an American Work Permit.

To imagine that there is a whole army of people sitting in a room full of phones randomly calling anyone and everyone in the phonebook. Thanks to me having a study week, I get the whole week off to finish the mindless essays etc. During the four days, I’ve been attacked by no less than 12 phone calls. All during the most important hours of the day. Lunch and dinner time.

At first I was apprehensive about how I could tell them off. I mean they are human after all. Plus, I’ve been rejected by a ton of people during my days as a Mass Com student as well as working as a journalist. I know it sucks to be told off so usually I try to be really really nice. That’s until I got a pre recoded voice message. I mean at lest have the decency to tell me in person and not using a bloody machine.

So thanks to that machine I’ve managed to unleash all my frustration onto that poor helpless machine.

Machine: Hello, I’m Jamie. I was wondering if you’ll be interested in buying a home in the *I interrupt*

Me: Who the F*** do you think you call calling at this B***DY hour and making P*** OFF. Don’t you know that I’ve got other F***KING things to do rather that F***KING entertain you piece of S*** machinery.

Machine: All you have to do use press *I interrupt again*

Me: You want me to press ya! I’ll come F***KING press you right now your B****DY piece of S*** . Get your freaking A** down here this F***KING minute and I’ll B***DY kick you’re A** and then I’ll press you F***KING S***

Machine: Thank you and good bye.

Whew… that was good. All my stress and anger for the past 3 days, gone just like that.

B***DY S**TY C*** that can’t F***KING think in this B***DY world.