» Cringe!

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.
(Tue 2nd Dec 2008, 17:34, More)

» Call Centres

Teething problems
One summer I worked in a call centre for a firm that rhymes with "Doctor and Ramble". I worked on the Dutch lines, taking calls from Holland and Belgium. This was one of the lighter moments:

"Goede morgen, 'Doctor en Ramble' Consumentenservice. Hoe kan ik u helpen?"

"You sell the denture paste, right?"

"Yes, Sir. What would you like to know about it?"

"How do you get your teeth out?"

"Erm, put your thumb in and pull?"

"I'm 93, I'll break my jaw!"

"Er, I'll just check for you in the manual..."

They don't produce a manual for old men who can't pull their dentures out, unsurprisingly. I suggested a hot drink might do the trick. He didn't call back anyway.
(Thu 3rd Sep 2009, 13:50, More)

» School Projects

The boat race
A slight tangent this one: an project assigned by Akela (Cub Scout leader, not an anthropomorphic wolf). We had two weeks to build boats from flotsam and jetsam, and then set them loose on a tributary of the Cam, with the winner getting a old decrepid raft as a trophy.

Due to a combination of the spectacular failure of my effort the year before, and my apathy for making anything complex, I decided on a simple model; I found an old bit of two-by-four in the garage, and sawed it in 3 places. I then got the old man to help me add a keel, and I was satisfied.

The day of the competition arrived, and my measly effort was up against vast contraptions with elastic-powered motors, cola bottle rafts and something resembling the Mary Rose (the latter was obviously doomed from the start). Lack of wind scuppered the sails of several vessels, and the elastic snapped on one motor. There was even no current to carry the cola bottles. One little boat kept his head, while all about him were losing theirs and blaming it on him (sic), winning by a nose, just ahead of a balsa frame effort.

It just goes to show, even if you are as thick as a piece of two-by-four, you can still win sometimes.

Length: about 12 inches, with a knobbly bit on the bottom.
(Mon 17th Aug 2009, 13:31, More)

» Pet Peeves

The hound of the matter
Dog crap. Why, oh why do people not clear up after their dog? Living in continental Europe as I do, the problem is worse here than in Britain, but it infuriates me no end that people cannot seem to take due care and attention when exercising their canine.

I've come a cropper of the crap once in 8 months, living in Amsterdam, which is about average for my track record in Britain, but this is beside the point. I've seen people let their prize poodle poop their present directly in the middle of the pavement, but it's not even done in malice, or with a slight smirk on the face. It's blatent unwillingness to think.

While out for a walk with a good friend of mine, his quadruped let one fly. "Have you got a bag?" I asked. "It's on the grass", he replied. But kids play in that park! Where's your sense of corporate social responsibility, man? He's American, he wouldn't understand those words.

I really sound like an old granddad, talking as if the world's gone mad, but this is just ludicrous. I'd accost someone when I see it occur, with such words as, "Menneer, uw hond heeft een cadeautje op straat gelaten. Heeft u een plastik tasje dabij, om hem weg te nemen?" However, I'm too chicken, and I'd probably be laughed at in return.
(Sun 4th May 2008, 22:16, More)

» Family codes and rituals

Waving goodbye
I know this isn't a unique phenomenon, but from time immemorial everyone in the family, wherever they're going, has to be waved from the door of the house for as long as they're visible.

Leaving the grandparents', and we (big sister and I) would be embarrassingly stuck in the back of the Metro for what seemed for an eternity from the backseat, while Dad finished packing the car, reversed out the driveway, checked soft toy attendance, ran back inside to collect Pongo the gorilla, and drove off. Then we'd be chased half-way down the road, mercifully without white handkerchiefs.

I had this for about 10 years of leaving for school as well, every morning. Waving with one hand, while cycling away. I realised eventually this ritual would end when I stopped waving back. I don't have anything against any family members, but I think the neighbours thought my parents were potty.

Length: Depends how long the road was.
(Sun 23rd Nov 2008, 22:28, More)