We were doing a survey on what people think of the insurance they already have, after that. Of course, since we are calling people on the phone and mentioning insurance, people will think that we are trying to sell it, and since it is a Mercury retrograde (still) some of them will still think so even after I have explicitly told them that no, we are not selling anything.
One woman, who was under this mistaken impression that we were trying to convince her to leave her current insurance and come to the Dark Side of buying insurance peddled over the phone, told me that she was in love with her $COMPANY insurance, was married to it, and was having adult relations with it. (That last was not in so many words, of course.)
The amusing bit was, this is one of the surveys where the combination of the job number of the survey in the computer and the pattern in the companies we ask if they have an opinion on reveals the sponsor of the survey, and of course the company that this lady was going on somewhat hysterically about her utter adoration for was identical to the company that sponsored the survey in the first place. But of course we can't say that, and at any rate, this person had slammed down the phone before I could reiterate that we were not selling anything, and we would like to hear more in depth about just exactly how much she loved $COMPANY, with maybe a few bonus digs at competitors.
"I like cheese" is evidently becoming a monitor in-joke non sequitor. Figment used it on me today at lunch, after I'd told him about the woman who was inappropriately involved with her insurance. Yay, Figment. He also made some dreadful pun or other, for which he narrowly escaped the half-empty bottle of purple Dew being pulled out of Hammerspace and smacked down on his head. (I missed on purpose.)
We got out early, which was good, because I was almost asleep on the phones. Didn't even get 6 hours in. Saturday's the 8 hour day, in theory.
Since I was out early, I took the bus to the bank and made sure my paycheck was tucked away safely. Ran into a co-worker at the bus stop, in the nonliteral sense, the fellow with the ponytail that's entirely covered in small black hair elastics.
I decided to try and get the September bus pass today, so I asked the bus driver if the kiosk at the Metro terminal was open today. He mistook my question and told me where it was, which I already knew, but not whether or not it was open (it proved to be not). Argh?
Now, home. Hot out there. Ick. Everybody else is flaked out playing video games and LAN smashembashem.