It Won't Hurt a Bit!

Fucking morons.

All the new people are afraid of the phone. They don't like to answer 'em, they don't like to use 'em, they flat-out refuse to page on 'em. It's like the entire nation has suddenly gone insane. And by insane, I mean stupid.

These are the people who are attached to their cellphones, though. They can't take a piss without having to text or tweet about it, and yet, show them a real telephone, and they are dumbfounded and afeared of it, much as I assume primitive people were of fire.

Yesterday, I got to work with the Turnip. And having decided that these new people are either going to actually use the telephone AND page, or they're going to have customer complaints to the unemployment lines.

The Turnip forgot to give a grumpass OF his change. It happens, not a big deal, really. And of course, no other customer in the tri-state area is paying with cash, so he's got to call to get the drawer open. (Yeah, it helped that the OF stood there, saying stupid shit like, "So, what? You just don't give change to people?" the asshole.)

The L&G department manager should be out here somewhere, so page him. The Turnip immediately begins trying to remember the extension number so he can call. Honey! Manager-man doesn't have their phone, so calling it is a waste of time. You're going to page.

I swear, the Turnip actually began trembling! Shaking in his shoes, he was!

I hand him the phone, I tell him what he's going to say, and I hit the buttons...he holds the receiver about 14 feet away from him and talks in his every day, normal, not-there voice. Nobody heard it except me. I made him do it again, telling him, "This time, use your outside voice."

He manages to do it, and he didn't die. Asshole OF is still making snotty comments. (Asshole also didn't like it that I deactivated the alarm chip, either, and had asshole stuff to say about that, too.)

Later, while Turnip was on his lunch hour, this genius in a red vest comes up to me and says, "Hey, can you unlock a wheelbarrow?" I tell him, nope, call 806, and ask if the customer has a receipt. 10 minutes later, Dexter the Boy Genius tells me "yes" the customer does have a receipt.

"See how easy that was to answer? Didn't hurt you a bit, did it?"

All the people he tried to call were already on the phone. I tell him to page 'em. He says he doesn't know how. I sez, "Well, Dexter, you're in luck--I've got a phone right here that will work." He refuses to come near it. Tells me to page it for him.

"You work here, dude, and it's your customer, you WILL page it, or your customer will stand there until telepathy becomes an accepted form of communication."

He tries one last time and the call goes through. Dammit! I was on a roll, too.