Ground swallow me up
Once upon a time, I worked for a call centre company, taking calls from Holland and Belgium about all manner of different products. I wouldn't tell you the company, but it may have sounded like Doctor and Shamble. The job itself was pretty exhausting, considering I had to know the details of about 300 lines and sympathise, advise and (usually) refund each caller. In Dutch. I may speak it better than Steve Mclaren, but I'm not perfect.

One afternoon, as I'm experiencing the post-lunch quasi-snooze, a nice lady calls up about those remarkably regularly-shaped crisps, and tells me that a particular packet didn't taste quite right.

I mumble some reply, and get the response:

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh, I apologise, we'd like to refund you."

"Oh, that's very kind of you."

I refund her, hang up and continue refunding other callers for damaged nappies, as per usual.

The following week, in my appraisal, which call should be audited? Only the one with the aforementioned tubular crisp lady. Apparently my mumbled comment on the phone the week before had been slightly suggestive:

"We'd like to receive you."

Oops. That's the Dutch for you, totally non-plussed.

Length: As long as the telephone wire from here to Rotterdam.
(nothingworn didn't eat cheese on, Tue 2 Dec 2008, 17:34, Reply)