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Oct. 17th, 2008 09:11 pmBusy shift, but not the most pleasant. First I got an argumentative woman who demanded that we stop calling her over and over again and said she had our freefone number and would ring us in her own good time - but she didn't have to settle for that. She wanted to know why she'd been chosen, what the survey was all about and why we wanted her to do it again this one last time.
To my shock, she rang us back an hour and a half later to say she was ready to do it - and the selector gave her to me again. At least she completed the interview without making too much of a fuss. Much more than could be said for a random woman who answered the phone on one address instead of the person we'd recorded as living there, who wouldn't let me get a word in edgeways. I'd barely opened my mouth when she leapt down my throat with "This is a private residential number" (yes, madam, it's private residences we want, not that she let me make that point). I'd not even got as far as telling her what the survey was when she brusquely cut in with "I don't want to know. Goodbye" and hung up.
As Eric Cartman sings, "Stupid, stupid bitch, stupid, stupid bitch..."
Driving lesson after work. My introduction to turns in the road. My first and fourth attempts weren't too bad, but the less said about my second and third the better. The rest of the time, just driving around the town, I did OK apart from one episode of kerb-mounting on a corner when I was momentarily distracted by Peter singing Rolf Harris songs after seeing a girl walking a ginormous dog.
In my capacity as a former Mayor's Consort I'd been invited to purchase a ticket for this evening's Poppy Appeal Launch at the Town Hall. One of the local British Legion chaps and the current Mayor said a few words, then we had a glass of wine and a buffet (but I was good and stuck to just satsumas). Talked to Julia, and her husband Mike whom she outed as a model railway buff, for a while, and wandered around saying hello to a few people I knew from my mother's mayoral year. Sir Graball D'Encloseland was there, but we didn't speak. The climax of the evening was the raffle; the prizes included four chrysanthemums in pots, "freshly dug from the [Town Hall] borders this morning". All four were still standing among the last eight prizes, so the Mayor announced "Nobody goes home till all the chrysanths are claimed" and, when one lady went up for her prize, he told her "Choose the Christmas cards - if you do, you get a free chrysanth." By then, me ma had already won a bottle of Black Beer and Raisin wine.
To my shock, she rang us back an hour and a half later to say she was ready to do it - and the selector gave her to me again. At least she completed the interview without making too much of a fuss. Much more than could be said for a random woman who answered the phone on one address instead of the person we'd recorded as living there, who wouldn't let me get a word in edgeways. I'd barely opened my mouth when she leapt down my throat with "This is a private residential number" (yes, madam, it's private residences we want, not that she let me make that point). I'd not even got as far as telling her what the survey was when she brusquely cut in with "I don't want to know. Goodbye" and hung up.
As Eric Cartman sings, "Stupid, stupid bitch, stupid, stupid bitch..."
Driving lesson after work. My introduction to turns in the road. My first and fourth attempts weren't too bad, but the less said about my second and third the better. The rest of the time, just driving around the town, I did OK apart from one episode of kerb-mounting on a corner when I was momentarily distracted by Peter singing Rolf Harris songs after seeing a girl walking a ginormous dog.
In my capacity as a former Mayor's Consort I'd been invited to purchase a ticket for this evening's Poppy Appeal Launch at the Town Hall. One of the local British Legion chaps and the current Mayor said a few words, then we had a glass of wine and a buffet (but I was good and stuck to just satsumas). Talked to Julia, and her husband Mike whom she outed as a model railway buff, for a while, and wandered around saying hello to a few people I knew from my mother's mayoral year. Sir Graball D'Encloseland was there, but we didn't speak. The climax of the evening was the raffle; the prizes included four chrysanthemums in pots, "freshly dug from the [Town Hall] borders this morning". All four were still standing among the last eight prizes, so the Mayor announced "Nobody goes home till all the chrysanths are claimed" and, when one lady went up for her prize, he told her "Choose the Christmas cards - if you do, you get a free chrysanth." By then, me ma had already won a bottle of Black Beer and Raisin wine.
