Not a Psychic, Yes?

I'm sorry it took me a few days to post this. We've had issues with our neighbors and our internet...again, and this time it's taken me a few days to fix it. This time the actual company we get our internet from had to get involved in order to undo some of the things the neighbors had done. If only there was a way you could get your very own internet without having to consistently hack your neighbor's... Oh wait, there is. I wish my neighbors would just pony up the money instead of taking it out on us, who pay for our own internet.

On Monday, my mom's entire office had to go to a company rally. The company also required for said office to be open while everyone at the office was at the rally. I'm not sure who this made sense to, but considering the company my mom works for, this kind of logic surprised me not. It's pretty par for the course for them. The office manager was smart enough to see the failed logic in this, but had no idea who was going to watch the office if they all had to be at the rally, therefore, he asked Boobie for suggestions. She suggested me.

Now don't get the wrong idea, I wasn't there to work. Literally all I had to do was sit there in a chair for a few hours. That's it. Just so they could say someone was in the office. I even took my laptop and wrote. I was told I didn't even have to answer the phones if I didn't want to, that I just had to sit there. I answered the phones anyway, because I like me some fun. Everyone told me it would be a boring morning with absolutely no ridiculous or urgent phone calls occurring. Because Monday was a holiday in the US where most people were off work, and because it's me and my life dictates otherwise, I had a feeling the morning would be crazy ridiculous if I just answered the phone. It did not disappoint. Figuring this was going to happen, I took notes.

* The first call I got contained lots of people talking in the background, but no one actually saying anything to me. I felt like I was butt dialed.

* I got a call from one of the ladies who works at the office. She is in her seventies, so we'll call her Miss Seventy. Miss Seventy was calling to see if she was supposed to be there working that morning. I told her that she was not, and that I was one of the agent's daughters who was just sitting and watching the office until everyone got back from the rally. She said, "Oh my word, well I'll be, I forgot all about that." Then she asked me a bunch of questions about said rally that I really couldn't answer, and wondered if ten minutes gave her enough time to get there just a little late, when she was traveling a half an hour to forty five minutes away, traffic depending. She's so cute. Apparently, she decided that did not give her enough time, because I later found out she never showed. I hope she's not lost out there somewhere.

* A man called wanting to talk to one of two people; the agent who sold him his home or Boobie. I told him that neither was there, and I was just watching the office while they were at a rally, but I would be more than happy to transfer him to one of their voicemails. He then says, "maybe you could help me," and launches into this whole thing about how he lost his mortgage papers and wants to know if I can get new ones for him, as he really needs them. I explained again I was just watching the office and did not actually work there. It didn't phase him. He was quite dejected that I couldn't run over and just magically get his papers that he really needed. Then he told me that he wasn't even sure it was his mortgage papers he lost, and maybe I could help him figure out what papers he lost. No, Sir, I promise I can not help you with that. God Bless his heart, because he was a nice enough guy, but please don't lose your papers, Sir. Please. I beg of you, especially if they're papers you need right at that second. He eventually conceded to leaving a message.

* While looking over the agent extension sheet in order to transfer a caller to voicemail, I saw that one of the agent's last names was Hornicak. I'd like to think that's pronounced horny-cak for my own sick amusement, but I don't actually know.

* A man called because he was on the agency website and found a house that really had him interested, yet there was no address to said house. He wanted the address because he wanted to ride past it, right now, today. I, again, explained I was just watching the office and didn't work there, but would be glad to transfer him to the selling agent's voicemail. He said that would be fine, but he also wanted the address before I did that, as he had the MLS number. I mock slapped my head against the keyboard of my computer, unsure of what he wanted me to do. Plus, if the address wasn't on the website, I had no way of getting it even if I did work there, unless I was the selling agent, because all I would be able to do is go into the website and look at the listing from there for an address via the MLS number. Basically, I would be doing the same thing he did. He finally agreed to let me transfer him, although he was upset because he wanted to ride past the house now and didn't want to wait for her to call him back.

* A lady called and didn't even say hello. She said, and I quote, "Is Secretary there? Thank you." Secretary was not, but I transferred her, because she didn't seem to want to talk to me whatsoever. She called back a few minutes later and went through the same thing. This time I explained that the secretary wasn't in and she'd just have to leave a message. That wasn't good enough for her, but she had no choice. People frighten me.

* A woman called for Boobie. I went through the same schmiel with her as I had with everyone else. She stops me as I'm telling her that I do not actually work there, interrupts, and tells me that she wants to go with the agency's insurance, however, she needs said insurance in place in a week and a half, so she has to talk to someone now. I reiterate what I was trying to tell her when she interrupted me and told her I'd send her to Boobie's voicemail. She asks me if Boobie is going to be back soon, because she needs to talk to someone now. I tell her she will be back later, but I'm unsure exactly when. She asks me if I can just help her. I tell her no. She sighs and lets me transfer her. I don't understand why this woman waited until the last minute to call about the insurance, when she obviously knew she was going to need it, and then got all in an uproar because I couldn't help her, and the person who could wasn't there at that moment.

* Possibly my favorite was a woman called wanting to speak to the agent in charge of a house she was interested in. I asked her who the agent was and she said she didn't know. She said she did, however, have the address, which did me no good. I explained her that I was just watching the office, but if she would like to leave her name and number, along with the address, I would find out who the agent was and have them give her a call later in the day. At least that's what I was in the middle of saying before she got upset and hung up. I'm unsure of what she wanted me to do if she didn't know who the agent was. It seems reasonable to not assume the person on the other end of the phone of an office with twenty or so agents to be psychic, yes?

* The last call a got was a lovely woman calling for Boobie. When I told her how I was just watching the office due to a rally, she just started laughing. Apparently she works for the agency's closing company, was inside of the office she works out of alone, since she was with the closing company and not an agency, therefore not having to go to said rally, and she already knew Boobie wouldn't be there. She was cracking up at herself for being, and I quote, "honestly so stupid." I loved her.

* Then there were your general calls from people wanting to see a house right, at that very moment. When I told them that I apologized, but I was just watching the office and did not work there, but would be happy to transfer them to the selling agent's voicemail, they got very upset with me. They told me that I didn't understand, they were off that day and had to see the house that day. I apologized again and transferred them. Honestly, they knew today was a holiday. They knew they'd be off work. They knew since last year when this was a holiday and they were off work, but they picked the day of to call and try to make an appointment, because they had to see it that day. That makes no sense. I thought it, but I didn't say it.

I promise I am super nice on the phone. I never say what I'm thinking, but sometimes I wonder what people are thinking. Either way, I'm almost glad they're thinking it, because it's quite entertaining when you think about it. You have to make your own fun somehow, just not at anyone's expense. I hope everyone's panties who were lit on fire got quickly extinguished upon talking to the people they wanted to talk to.

Also while at the office, I was reading our local city magazine. I was appalled by the spelling mistakes and sentences that were clearly missing more than one word, having it not make sense. Some sentences were missing punctuation, and other such things. I had to stop reading it, because half of the time I couldn't make it what they were trying to say. I was even more appalled when I found out the same woman edits the entire magazine herself. Everyone has a margin for error. I know I've made errors on this blog before; stupid ones at that, but this went beyond that.

Someone has to write these articles, then turn them over to someone else to edit. For these errors to pass through not only one, but two people, is insane. The spelling errors were out of this world. Something would be spelled right in one paragraph, and then misspelled in another. One of my favorites was when they were talking about the Trib Total Media Center. It went from being called the Trib Total Media Center, to the Trib Totla Media Center in the next paragraph. What irked me is that every computer has an F7 key. Every word processor has a spell check. Was it that difficult to use it? And to miss entire words, sometimes two or three in a row, so that nothing made sense, was just unforgivable in a printed press magazine that people are paying for.

Said editor is also a writer for some of the articles. It's bad. It's just bad.

Last but not least, speaking of the above where I mentioned the issues with my neighbors getting into my internet, we've often questioned who exactly is doing it. We know what house the hacking is coming from, but there's the neighbor girl and her boyfriend living there. I've long said it was the boyfriend, and he possibly taught her how to do what he's doing, but he started it. I think yesterday said neighbor girl proved why I think it can't possibly be her that figured out how to do so. She happily posted on her Facebook via her phone that she had locked her keys in her car for the third time that week. It was only Wednesday.