Two months ago a Washington County road grader slashed our phone line in numerous places. To restore service, a technician draped 3,500 ft. of cable down the ditch, across the dirt road, through the pasture, and into our backyard. It has now been lying above ground, exposed to the elements and automobile traffic for over 6 weeks. On Monday, Connie phoned our land-line provider to ask when they’d d bury the cable.
If you ever need a lesson in poor customer service, I recommend you call Sage Telecom and ask for Julio Tiluestre. Not only is Julio a master at speaking undecipherable broken English, he will NOT allow you to speak to a supervisor, nor will he pretend to take any action that might resolve your problem. Despite his incompetence and unwillingness to help, he WILL end the conversation with “Have a nice day,” no matter how strongly you’ve cursed him.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the Head of Customer Service at 100 word Grand Central who is famous for saying, “Jan—Come here.—I have a chore for you,” is Alexandria “Ma” Bell Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise of madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
The job interview went better than he could’ve dreamed. Ray Kroc was so intrigued by his marketing strategy proposal that he encouraged Ronald to implement it at their busiest restaurant.
The focus would be on attracting and retaining young children as the primary customer base. Step one would be the development of small-portion meals containing a prize. Unfortunately, Ron relied on his degree in Entomology when selecting the contents.
Unsuspecting mothers shrieked in horror as live insects darted from their children’s lunch sacks. Angry complaints came pouring in.
Employees dubbed the highly unsuccessful and short-lived venture the ‘Grumpy Meal.’
*As with our fearless Leader’s post, this is also a syndicated rerun from ages past.
Horror, Psychological Thrillers, Poetry, Flash Fiction
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This is the blog of a woman who is seriously on the edge and I mean right ON the edge…no, not there… just a little bit further… further than that…no, further still…just a tiny bit more… just move slightly to the right a little…no, that’s too much…just move a tad to the left…that’s right, just there…now you’ve moved too far to the left… Damn, what part of the ‘on the edge’ do you not understand? Oh, and her matricidal boy genius, come devil spawn.
Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.
I may make you feel, but I can't make you think.
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AS I TOLD THE GIRL THAT I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO, THANKS FOR LAUGHING AT ME HERE TODAY.
I don't write, I touch without touching.
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