I hate telemarketers.
“Hello Mistah Tan ah, I’m Kat from Citibank ar and I having a credit cards for you!” says this woman who anyone could mistaken her for a pre-recorded phone machine. Such a well-rehearsed approach and polished voice.
Press 1 for English, Tekan 2 untuk Bahasa Malaysia, Chi chu chi chu sam Hwa Ee! (I speak horrible Mandarin)
But of course, the horribly bad engrish gave it away. It’s a classic.
“Huh?” says I, “A credit card?”
“Yeah Mistah Tan. You now having one credit cards under your names! You only need to photostats your I/C and your paychecks of the last 4 months!” Great, more broken English thrown at my direction, “and also ah, your EPF statements documents,” she concludes.
And I’m wondering, why on earth do they always add an ‘S’ at the end of every word. My god. “Err, ok. But what if I don’t want a credit card?” I inquired, “I don’t wanna be in debt for the rest of my life, just yet.”
“Nevermind wan Mistah Tan! You sign up and trying for 6 months, then if you dun like hioh, you can just cancel,” she re-assures.
I want to say,
“I DON’T WANT YOUR FUCKIN’ FREE CREDIT CARD YOU PSYCHO ‘S’ SPEAKING BITCH!!”
But instead, I told her I’d try to get all those documents ready by Monday.
Today it’s Sunday, I’ve got nothing done. And I don’t intend to anything because I don’t want to sign up. Though it can be to some convenience, but I’ll pass. If I do get one, I’ll ask my sis to hook me up with UOB. Since she works there. I might even get a Gold Card, even though I don’t qualify for it. Heh.
And suddenly I thought of a slogan.
Live now. Die later.
“Hello Mistah Tan ah, I’m Kat from Citibank ar and I having a credit cards for you!” says this woman who anyone could mistaken her for a pre-recorded phone machine. Such a well-rehearsed approach and polished voice.
Press 1 for English, Tekan 2 untuk Bahasa Malaysia, Chi chu chi chu sam Hwa Ee! (I speak horrible Mandarin)
But of course, the horribly bad engrish gave it away. It’s a classic.
“Huh?” says I, “A credit card?”
“Yeah Mistah Tan. You now having one credit cards under your names! You only need to photostats your I/C and your paychecks of the last 4 months!” Great, more broken English thrown at my direction, “and also ah, your EPF statements documents,” she concludes.
And I’m wondering, why on earth do they always add an ‘S’ at the end of every word. My god. “Err, ok. But what if I don’t want a credit card?” I inquired, “I don’t wanna be in debt for the rest of my life, just yet.”
“Nevermind wan Mistah Tan! You sign up and trying for 6 months, then if you dun like hioh, you can just cancel,” she re-assures.
I want to say,
“I DON’T WANT YOUR FUCKIN’ FREE CREDIT CARD YOU PSYCHO ‘S’ SPEAKING BITCH!!”
But instead, I told her I’d try to get all those documents ready by Monday.
Today it’s Sunday, I’ve got nothing done. And I don’t intend to anything because I don’t want to sign up. Though it can be to some convenience, but I’ll pass. If I do get one, I’ll ask my sis to hook me up with UOB. Since she works there. I might even get a Gold Card, even though I don’t qualify for it. Heh.
And suddenly I thought of a slogan.
Live now. Die later.
No comments:
Post a Comment