seraphcelene: (shot through by saava)
ME: Thank you for calling (blah blah blah). Would you like to make a reservation?

HER: I got this letter in the mail? I don't understand it.

ME: (pause) Well. You've been invited to attend a demonstration that explains how to start your own vending machine business. Would you like to make a reservation?

HER: (long pause) I guess. OK.

ME: What city are you invited to? (All invitations are for central cities in the area)

HER: Panama City.

ME: I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't have anything in Panama City.

HER: (long pause)

ME: What *city* are you invited to?

HER: Florida.

ME: Ma'am. That's a state. What city is your demonstration scheduled for?

HER: Panama City.

ME: I'm sorry ma'am I don't have anything in Panama City. If you look in the upper left hand corner of your letter, there's is a hotel address. I need to know what city your hotel is in?

HER: Florida.

ME: That's a state.

HER: Let me read this letter again and call you back.


I thought that was a good idea to. The small kernal of faith in mankind that I once had, has been slowly eroded away to practically nothing. I *really* don't like this job.
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seraphcelene

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