And so, my long, slow slide into total misanthropy is complete.
It’s been a slow night. One call so far. But what a doozy. The woman starts off with a litany of her latest legal action against her (presumably ex-)husband, who she claims has been hacking her phone and her computer, and who knows what all else, and then gives me a billing question, which I answer as best as I can, but then refer her to the billing department because I really don’t and can’t answer billing questions.
She wigs out. I mean, she starts freaking out and yelling about how her (presumably ex-)husband had stolen $2.5 million from her and convinced her and her kids that her four years of chemo was actually an attempt to poison her and tried to kill her himself and I don’t know what all else and she hangs up sobbing because I asked her to talk to billing where they could, oh, answer her question correctly.
And all I could think, to the dial tone, was “No wonder he wanted to kill you.”
I now miss the Cold War and the perpetual threat of nuclear armageddon, because I have officially given up on this species. Time to give the roaches a turn.