Archive for the sucky customer service Category

Board Meetings, Beer & Cigarettes

Posted in sucky customer service, Why I Love My Job on June 22, 2011 by catscratch

Ahhh, a day in the bang ’em up world of property management.  I swear, this last year has been the most up ‘n down year of my meager existence. 

To update anybody who might have missed me in the last three or so years, I got hitched, lost my job, lost another job and have been on a total rollercoaster and trying to figure out who the hell I really am at forty.

Folks, I have finally figured this out.  I’m a bookkeeper.

A bookkeeper for a local property management company.

I know, I know.  Last time I blogged about my job… I got fired for being snide and bitchy.  Lesson learned.  The Man won that battle.  However, if I don’t find an outlet for all of my professional frustration, I’ll just explode.

Seriously, if pissed off restaurant servers can vent on how they get back at horrible patrons, I can surely tell some of the funnies that go during my day to day at this job.  It freakin hilarious. 

Most of my day is consumed with poking payments and bills into a computer.  Not so difficult, right?  Right.

But on occassion, my presence is requested at a Board meeting.  I know, fun, huh?  Right. 

Alls I can say, is if I had to do it all over again, I’d be born rich and have nothing to do  but be a Board Member.  If for nothing more than just go mess with my neighbors.  But, presently, I’m not rich.  I work for the rich…  see where I’m going?

So, I smoke. Alot. 

Life has driven me to bad habits in the last couple of year.   I have foud that the occassional night of drinking a butt load of beer is good for my psyche.    The downside to drinking obscene amounts of beer is that I smoke way too much.

BBQ, Parmesan & Fire Sauce

Posted in Asshats, Diva's Bitchin, Lame and stupid crap, sucky customer service, The Soapbox, you are a psycho on August 14, 2008 by catscratch

What in the hell is with the people who run fast food??? 

I started thinking about how friggin tight that fast food places are with condoms condiments. 

Why would I be thinking of such a frivolous and tedious thing?

Well, today I wandered around this huge mecca that is Oak Ridge, Tennessee in a quest to forage something for lunch.

I was a tad early and was actually out during lunch rush, so every place on my route was totally jam packed and not worth the wait.

I ended up at Chick-Fil-A (one of my most favoritest places and a close runner up to Taco Hell).

Well, I ordered my regular.  Kids Chicken Nugget Meal w/a Large Diet Coke.

This renders just enough deep fried goodness to get me through until I go home and make dinner for the ingrates family.

Anyhoo.  I know that I’m demanding and that it’s alot to ask, but WHY OH WHY must I beg for that one extra little container of BBQ sauce? 

Is it fucking gold? 

I. Think. Not.

I dip my yummy criss-cross fries in it.  I dip the little deep-fried nuggets in it.  Hell, I’d dip my straw in it and drink it.


But, the old broad who is the guardian of the sauce packets was hoarding them.

Old Broad:  “Any sauces today?”

Me:  “Extra BBQ, please.”  (Note I was being sweet. I said PLEASE).

Old Broad threw 2 in my bag of deep fried goodness and turned around to walk away.

Me:  “Ma’am?  Does 2 mean you gave me one extra?”

Old Broad: “Our policy is 2 sauces for a kids meal.”  She smiled sweetly.

Me:  “Then can I have 2 more?”

Old Broad:  Slings one more in the bag with an annoyed look on her face.

Me:  Standing there staring at her.  At this point it was principle.

Old Broad:  Slung one more in the bag and asked, “Would you like a manager?”

Me:  “No. You finally gave me my sauce.  Have a great desert day.”

Then I started thinking (dangerous).  Taco Hell is greedy, too.  This is true, straight from a manager at Taco Hell… “It’s our policy to give 1 packet of mild, hot or fire sauce per item unless a customer specifically asks for more.”

WTF is up with fast food policies???? 

As much as they charge for a fucking taco nowdays, I should be able to have a case of that shit with every order as our orders are usually huge due to the kids and all of their friends.

Anyways, for spite, after going through drive through and getting an ungodly amount of crap asked for lots of sauce.  I’m talking like 30 tacos and 15 burritos and other random items.  The dude gave us 10 packets.  He counted them out.  Prick.

Did I ask for extra?  Yes. 

Did I get extra?  Fuck no.

So, I decided to be a total bitch (surprising, eh?). 

I parked the car.  Emptied one of the small bags into one of the other bags.   I took the freshly emptied bag and walked into the Taco Hell lobby.   I grabbed every pack of mild sauce that I could shove into that bag and walked out.   The kid at the counter just stood there with his mouth open.So now. At least when I go to Taco Hell, we don’t have to ask for any sauce at all.

Well, until we run out.

Other places that are tightwads:

Fazolis: tight with parmesan cheese and crushed red pepper.

Booger King: totally tight with ketchup.

Harvest Buffet:  totally tight with the fortune cookies… the dicks.

Ever have any fast food annoyances of your own?  Please share.


My daughter sent me this picture of Lil T.  He’s such a friggin ham.

Oh yah.  Go see my picture blog.  I’m shameless when it comes to self promo.

Cockroaches, Chicken Blood & Rusty Equipment

Posted in Asshats, Diva's little public service notices, Nasty Filthy Places, Plain Nasty, Priceless shit that makes the news, sucky customer service on May 15, 2008 by catscratch

Catchy post title? 

I’m squeemish as hell.   And I’m gaggin right now.  So I thought I share it with all y’all.

This post is a public service to those of you kids who hang out in Knoxville. 

For the rest of you, it’s a heads up.

It happens every-damn-where.

Yah.  Well, if you’re gaggin now, it only gets better from here.

(Note to self:   watching the news…. it only makes me sick and worried).

As a rule, it’s smart to know and accept that what goes on behind a kitchen door at Any Restaurant USA, is just icky. 

I just happened to catch a segment on the local news the other day about how many of the restaurants in Knoxville are filthy, disgusting, health hazards scoring extremely low, if not failing altogether, on their pop health inspections.   

Anything below a 70 is failing, by the way.  Amazing how many there are.

So, I figure, why not share.  If it’s happening here, I’m sure it’s happening at your local haunts.


Numero Uno on the Gag me with a Spoon List is:  TEXAS ROADHOUSE.

Oh. My. God.  They FAILED.  Like 45 out of 100 failed.

Here’s the rundown of their filth.  Rat shit in the pantry closet.  Employee rubbing his  face and then continued making food.  I can only imagine he was diggin for gold, but they didn’t come out and say it.  Food not kept at safe temperatures. Can you say curdled sour cream?

booger picker licker


Dos Gross Place is:  Sakkio Japan 

Y’all are gonna love this.  Inspectors found la cocarochas in the rice bags.  Just crawling around in it.  Bags of sugar (50 lb) were left on the floor around the prep area and chicken blood ran all over it.  Since there is no hand sink in the kitchen area that spews forth hot water, nobody there was washing their hands properly.  Yummy, huh?

big nasty cock roach

Thankfully, the inspector made those pathetic nasty asses toss out nearly 100 pounds of food and goods.


Filth Bucket #3: Mandarin House

I suppose what bothers me most is the fact that this place has been voted Knoxville’s Best chinese place for many moons.  I personally have thought they suck big furry balls since I went and they tried to pass off spaghetti noodles for Lo Mein noodles.    Not cool.

Now to find out they are just the most disgusting of the disgusting with the lowest score ever in the history of Knoxville…..  a 37.

Rundown of the asshattery at this place:  Dipshit drops raw chicken on the floor, looks around, slings it in the pan and cooks it.  Fried food was dripping onto chicken in the freezer.  The whole place has moldy ceilings (an athsma attack waiting to happen).  Again, they found roaches scurrying around the dishroom.


I’d share more, but quite frankly I’m getting the heebie jeeebies just thinking about eating and it’s getting mighty close to lunch time. 

Hungry yet?

Asshats, Sucky McDucky Customer Service & Half Nekkid Cowboys

Posted in Asshats, sucky customer service on April 9, 2008 by catscratch

If not satan himself, then certainly a spawn of  the hell demon.
They are almost as bad as Wal-Mart, yet another corporate money-grubber I hate with a purple passion.

I went to pay my monthly Comcast bill online by check. Have technology, why not use it. Save a stamp, save a tree.
Well, when I clicked submit, it gave me an error message and number, which I’m glad I wrote down.

So, I called and went through an seemingly endless barrage of the same automated questions being asked over and over by an annoying voiced robot.

Then, as has been every other time I’ve called Comcast, I was put into the standard holding pattern like an Airbus 300 waiting to land at LAX.

I was given clearance to land, and began my decent into the always fun world of call center customer service.

I spoke with girl this time who said she didn’t see any pending payments or anything and that I should just make my payment over the phone.

So, I did. With my debit card, which goes immediately. Come to find out 30 minutes later, the internet payment had went through and here is my confirmation.

So, I call Satan Comcast back, I go through the automated answering phone maze again and back into the standard holding pattern like an F16 circling Baghdad, only to talk to a not so pleasant or helpful fellow named Josh. They can’t stop either payment, he says.
“Hello.” Say I, “Just reverse the charges on the debit card, pal!!??!!”

To which Josh says repeatedly, “I’m sorry, ma’am. Once payments are through, they are through and there is nothing we can do about it.”

I spent more than 45 minutes of my valuable time, not to mention all the hold time, fighting with Josh about how all of this is not my fault.
I would have never paid over the phone had I not received an error message up on the clicking of the submit button.

So, I get on my cell phone and call the bank whilst on hold . And they, being the useless bloodsuckers they are, can’t stop any payments, as both are technically electronic payments.

Color me screwed. So two payments in the amount of $153.00 are going to be sucked out of my bank account because Comcast’s website sucks on severely proportionate levels

Now I’m on hold with them again, as they always have higher than normal call volume.

Comcast, if you can hear my subliminal rant, I am coming with an Exorcist to cast the demons out!


Tink from Pickled Beef said my desktop cowboy looked like he didn’t have a head…. It just looks that way on my desktop… Actually, you can’t really see his face or head because he was lookin down at his package to see how many dolla bills had been stuffed in….  So, Tink, I give to you, as a friend, a closer look at the cowpoke. 

Nice, no?

A Bad Joke & A Rant About Telemarketing Asshats

Posted in Asshats, sucky customer service, Those Damn Solicitors on March 23, 2008 by catscratch

I am an office manager for an small biomedical company in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. We are not a million dollar baby. We are not listed as one of the top companies in the Fortune 500. We are of no consequence to anyone, really. That is, anyone but those damn telemarketers, who seem to call more than our customers do. Until the past two days, the last statement was strictly a sarcastic theory.

I have made it my goal in life to give every telemarketer that calls our office so much shit, that they will beg the powers that be to take our multiple phone numbers off of the automated speedy dialer set up they utilize.

I have found out that the low level asshat that initiates this variety of phone call is generally a mega wuss. Scary Diva puts fear in them and they automatically put me through to a supervisor. Which is fine by me, that’s who I’d prefer to bitch at anyway.

The typical call is as follows:

Asshat: Hello, ma’am. I am calling today on behalf of BellSouth.

Me: You’re calling on behalf of BellSouth? Are you BellSouth or some poor schmuck hired by BellSouth to take this ass whipping?

Asshat: We are contracted by BellSouth to contact existing customers with this exciting..

Me: Let me guess, an exciting new plan?

Asshat: Yes, ma’am. We are…

Me: Stop right there. What is the name of your company?

Asshat: (will name off whatever company of the day is)

Me: And what is your name, please?

Asshat: I can not disclose my name.

Me: You can’t disclose your name? Where is your supervisor?

Asshat: I don’t understand, ma’am.

Me: Your supervisor, your boss. Please put them on the phone.

Asshat: One moment.

Asshat supervisor: I understand there is a problem here?

Me: You could call it that. When I get more calls a day from people like you bogging down my phone lines than I do from my customers, that is a major problem for me.

Assshat supervisor: Let me explain why…

Me: No! Let me explain to you. What is YOUR name. I have your company name.

Asshat supervisor: (rambles off a name)

Me: Okay. Now, I would like this to be recorded. Am I being recorded for quality and training purposes, pal?

Asshat supervisor: Yes, ma’am.

Me: Then understand this. I am keeping your name, the name of your company, the time and date that I spoke with you. I would like you to remove our phone numbers from your database. I would like to cease communication from your company. Do you understand?

Asshat supervisor: Yes. We will remove you immediately.

Me: Great. Because we report companies that do not remove us from their call lists/databases after we request it. I now have everything I need to report your company to the FCC for furthering communications after being asked to stop.

So, the story goes. Of course, the FCC doesn’t do shit for a body. You call, register a complaint, and nothing happens. But, it sure is alot of fun to harass the shit out of someone who’s job it is to harass the shit out of me.

The top of my “I HATE THESE GUYS” list is Bell South, followed ever so closely by Birch Telecom.

I also despise all of these shipping companies who try to out screw each other for the tidbit of business they might be able to get. Of which, my response is always, “If I’m gonna get screwed by a freight company, I’m sticking with UPS because our driver is freakin hot. But thank you for calling and trying to win my business! If you’d like to send some hot drivers over here for inspection, I might consider giving you my business, but I warn you. Our UPS guy will be hard to beat.”

Have a great dessert day, pal.

Alien Boogers, A Gauntlet Raised & Birthday Wishes

Posted in Bloggers Lane, Happy Birthday, Lame and stupid crap, Miss A, sucky customer service, Wacky Conversation on March 7, 2008 by catscratch

First… If anybody talks to or has access to Robert over at Observations From the Back 40…..  Tell him I’m hurt that he went all private and shit and didn’t even let a stinky fart to signal it. 

Have I been cut off??   Am I a Back 40 Outcast?

Say it ain’t so. 


So, a gauntlet was placed at my feet one day last week by our very own Speedcat “Loincloth” Holllydale.

 But we’ll get to that.

Thursday night is officially “Mommy & Me Night” for me and Miss A.  In otherwords, several hours of kickin it with the old fuddy-duddy she proudly calls Mother.

The night began with a leisurely ride to a mystery destination as I knew I would meet much protest from my darling mutant heathen teenager. 

Mind you, this is the same child that was recently suspended booted out of school for ditching.  Damn kid.   

She was grounded for just short of 3 weeks.  As far as she knows, she was grounded for actually ditching school.  Well, I suppose that was partially why she got grounded.

What really pissed me off is she was stupid enough to get caught.  I mean, I spent my high school years making a career of ditching.  Did I get caught?  No.

As far as I’m concerned, I don’t really want her to be doing stupid shit, but I also prefer if she pull dumb ass stunts that she not get caught.

But, whatever, she got caught and I’ve spent the last 2 weeks taking petty jabs at her for it.  Heh.  Grounded for more than 2 days as a teenager is the equivalent of eternity in hell. 

Tonight’s festivities started out with my forcing my child to get a real, honest to Christ manicure at a real honest to Christ nail salon.  She wasn’t amused.

Well, she showed some slight amusement at the color she picked for her all natural nails.

The bottle said ‘summer lime’ but I’m convinced that some nail color manufacturer in China kidnapped some aliens and milked their boogers into a nail polish bottle.

Nice color.

Then we go to Taco Hell… where we waited for at least 23 minutes for our feast when Miss A informs me that Dee Schnider (80s dude that just won’t go away) has a huge penis as pointed out to her the other day by her best friend.    That and that Robert Plant has a nice butt for an “old dude”.

Jesus….. wholesome conversations they have.

which brings me back to the gauntlet. 

It went down with the Master of Loincloth saying:

Eric “Speedcat Hollydale” Says:
March 3, 2008 at 7:16 am e

I could out burrito you any day … that’s a challenge. We could hold a muti-blog Taco Bell contest with HUGE prizes. I will be passing out cigars at my blog ….”

Ok, pal.  It’s officially on!  I’ll see your burrito.

 and me and Miss A, we’ll  raise by 2 hardshell tacos & rice with nacho cheeeeeese


 AND a masticated tostado (I’d already dug in when I remembered the challenge)


AND an order of nachos and cheese mixed with FIRE SAUCE

Of course, to wash this nasty, fat filled feast down was my typical Diet Dew.

 Touche’, touche’, I say to ya, old boy!


Lastly, but totally not leastly, I’d like to wish a HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the man that reveres  HOT AMERICAN BABES and Food Network Chefs!!


 I wish you the happiest of birthdays, my friend!  And I’d like to point out that you are officially middle aged.

Sunday Morning, FleaMarkets & 18 Wheelers

Posted in Asshats, No blowjob for you tonight, sucky customer service on January 2, 2008 by catscratch

I haven’t worked or blogged much in the past couple of weeks. I actually can’t tell you what the hell I’ve been doing for the past couple of weeks, as everything has been pretty uneventful and quiet.

Not that I’m complaining. I like my uneventful, drama-free exisitence. Boring and quiet is good. Drama and angst are of the devil. The only drama I was in tune to dealing with was the shit I was giving Big T for not giving me any Saturday night. The nerve.

This past weekend was full of driving around aimlessly and playin poker. Me and Big T woke up at the buttcrack of dawn on Sunday, way before the chickens even. He decided that we should go ridin. So… up, showered, made-up, dressed and out the door… turn-key job performed in like 35 minutes. Not bad considering I AM NOT a very enthusiastic morning person.

First stop. Breakfast. McDonald’s. Clinton, TN.
Now I’m not sure if the manager bitch working the cash register and taking orders was pissed because:
A- it was Sunday morning before the chickens were up and her ass was at work…
B- she didn’t get any Saturday night, but from all appearances she had been rode hard and put up wet…
C her district manager was combing through her files with a magnifying glass…
D-I was there at an ungodly hour, lookin like a million bucks…

Whatever the reason, she had a friggin corn-cob wedged up her ass and it was apparent that she didn’t want to be there. Friendly McDonalds’ greeting? I think not.

Now, I don’t deny being a complete and total bitch. It’s part of my genetic make-up. As a result, I do not have a job where it is required that I be friendly while on the clock. I can be pissed off and bitchy if I want to, but I’m not serving a Big Breakfast to the church crowd on Sunday morning either.

Second stop. TN’s Largest Fleamarket, Crossville, TN. (1.5 hours west of home)
Largest, my ass. It might be the largest fleamarket spot, but there wasn’t a damn thing to be seen. But, my Big T is a die hard fleamarket junkie. I’m not so much, especially the outside kind, but I can take one for the team when I have to.

It was cold, it was wet, it was NOT fleamarket friendly weather. There were, at best, 10 stalls of shit open for business. Ten. Out of 120 or more booths.
But it was ok. We were out riding and I found 3 pairs of cutsie foo-foo socks to add to my overflowing sock drawer.

So, we leave Crossville. Buh-bye. By this time it’s nearly 10:30 EST, we decided to drive to Sevierville for the other big ass fleamarket.

On the way back we pass a huge convoy of 18-wheelers. That is a bad-ass sight when there’s a line of semi’s as far as you can see. I started talking about a friend of mine that calls them 16-wheelers. They are not, 16-wheelers, they are 18-wheelers for fuck sake, call them what they are.

Big T is amused by this chatter. “Count the wheels, baby. You do realize that the trailer only has 8 wheels and that the rig actually holds the others, right?”

*blink* “My argument, Big T, isn’t where the damn wheels are or what they are attached to. My arguement is the total number of wheels under that bad-mama-jama.”

Finally, we get to Sevierville (+/- 1 hour east of home)
This was fine with me. This fleamarket is is heated and indoors. My kind of fleamarket. Plus they have cute little dogs and those sinful roasted cashews, makes the place a winner in my book.

I fell in love a little shit-zoo immediately. Big T is a poop and wouldn’t buy it for me. I’m still holding that against him and am not sure when I will let the whole thing drop. I think if I play it right, I can get maximum mileage out of my bitchin’ about not getting the puppy and end up with the puppy at the same time.

In addition to the puppy fiasco. I found 10 MORE pairs of foo-foo socks, a wire scooper number for my FryDaddy and a cute little shot-glass measuring cup that you use instead of measuring spoons. Very nice.

What is life, but to make it interesting for my hubby?