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I got hit by another pair of overnight shifts over the weekend, which I more or less survived. (One or two I can handle—it's when we start hitting the hat trick that my sleep cycle turns into the Creature from the Black Lagoon.) As I've mentioned before, it's cushy work, but you do have the added frabjousness that comes from finding out just how stultifyingly batsnot crazy your callers can truly get. Yes, worse than the stuff I get during the day. Yes, even Fridays after 7. Competition for apparently-coveted title of Biggest Fruit Basket of the Weekend was tight, but in the end, voting came down to a bottom top three:
Third place: The woman who called me for the sole purpose of telling me how much she weighs: "Operator, I just weighed myself, and I'm at 215." She then paused, because apparently I was supposed to initiate a lively discussion on the matter. Lively discussion consisted of me pounding the "CANCEL CALL" putton halfway through the bottom panel of the keyboard.
Second place: The woman who called to confirm that the time was 1 a.m., and asked if she sould be going to sleep now. Repeatedly. At 15 second intervals. For an hour and a half. Yes, pookie, you should be in bed, preferably in a room where the phone isn't.
First place, and recipient of the prestigious Raisin Cake Trophy: The woman who screamed, "STOP DOING IT! STOP DOING IT! STOP IT! I DON'T NEED NO PREMONITIONS! STOP IT, YOU HEAR?!" (Anti-Semitic content removed in the interest of world peace.) I mentioned this one to a coworker, who replied, "Ohh, yeah. She was the one who asked me why Satan was stealing her face." No competition, really.
Third place: The woman who called me for the sole purpose of telling me how much she weighs: "Operator, I just weighed myself, and I'm at 215." She then paused, because apparently I was supposed to initiate a lively discussion on the matter. Lively discussion consisted of me pounding the "CANCEL CALL" putton halfway through the bottom panel of the keyboard.
Second place: The woman who called to confirm that the time was 1 a.m., and asked if she sould be going to sleep now. Repeatedly. At 15 second intervals. For an hour and a half. Yes, pookie, you should be in bed, preferably in a room where the phone isn't.
First place, and recipient of the prestigious Raisin Cake Trophy: The woman who screamed, "STOP DOING IT! STOP DOING IT! STOP IT! I DON'T NEED NO PREMONITIONS! STOP IT, YOU HEAR?!" (Anti-Semitic content removed in the interest of world peace.) I mentioned this one to a coworker, who replied, "Ohh, yeah. She was the one who asked me why Satan was stealing her face." No competition, really.
