I Hate Sales and It Hates Me Back.

Long involved story really really short: Work has been kicking the shit out of me, and despite my protests, hissyfits and other professional tools at my disposal, my job now involves Sales for the forseeable future. This does not make me a happy monkey, as I am quite possibly the shittiest sales person to walk the planet.

So, I’ve spent the majority of my days on the phone, and I can’t help myself from fucking with people. It’s amazing I still have a job.

Here’s how some of the conversations went.

“Me: Hi Tom this is Clare calling from the 7th circle of hell, blah blah blah.
Tom: <click>
Me: <calls back> Hi Tom, it’s Clare again. You might want to get your phone checked out, it randomly disconnected and I thought you should know before someone accuses you of being unprofessional and hanging up on them!”

“Me: Hi Michael this is Clare calling from the 7th circle of hell, blah blah blah.
Michael: I don’t have time for this shit right now.
Me: I understand that. Is there a time later today that you would have time for my shit? I really have all day. ”

“Me: Hi Tony this is Clare calling from the 7th circle of hell, blah blah blah.
Tony: I’m not interested.
Me: In what?
Tony: Whatever you’re selling.
Me: How do you know?
Tony: How do I know what?
Me: If you’re not interested in what I have to say when you haven’t given me the opportunity to say anything? Do you know the lottery numbers, too? ”

“Me: Hi Greg this is Clare calling from the 7th circle of hell, blah blah blah.
Greg: Bitch <Click>
Me: <calls back> Hi Greg. I just wanted to let you know what the proper ettiquite of getting someone off of the phone entails. Usually, it involves calling someone a derogatory name and then saying “Goodbye”, because that’s the polite thing to do. For example: You’re a self important asshole. Have a great day! <click>”

“Me: Hi Pablo this is Clare calling from the 7th circle of hell, blah blah blah.
Pablo: <click>
Me: <calls back> Hi Pablo, it looks like we got disconnected…
Pablo: No we didn’t. That was intentional. What the hell do you want?
Me: Oh, well then let me rephrase. Hi Pablo, it looks like you are incredibly rude and I am giving you a chance to redeem yoursel…
Pablo: <Click>”
“Me: Hi Sanjeev this is Clare calling from the 7th circle of hell, blah blah blah.
Sanjeev: Do you have any idea how busy I am?
Me: No, sir I cant say that I do is there a better time I ca…
Sanjeev: Do you have any idea who I am?
Me: I wasn’t aware that I was supposed to.
Sanjeev: Do you know how many traders I am working with at the moment?!
Me: If I guess correctly do I get to keep them?
Sanjeev: <click>”

“Me: Hi Jordan this is Clare calling from the 7th circle of hell, blah blah blah.
Jordan: Not interested <click>
Me: <Calls back> Hi Jordan, I know that we got disconnected because I know a man of your cailber would never hang up on a sweet, 25 year old girl because that would just be rude.
Jordan: I…uh…
Me: Yea I get that a lot.”

“Me: Hi Dale this is Clare calling from the 7th circle of hell, blah blah blah.
Dale: You have 30 seconds of my time.
Me: Aren’t you going to count down or something?
Dale: What?
Me: Does this count for my 30 seconds, or are you going to count to three so I know when to start timing?
Dale: Are you fucking serious.
Me: Yes, I am.
Dale: I don’t have time for this.
Me: I understand that, you’re the one who wanted to play the lets time the girl on the phone game. Now if you had just been nice in the first place, this call would’ve taken half the time. Which is a completely inefficient use of your time considering that you really didn’t have to be so abrasive so you consciously chose to do something that would eat at your oh so precious time. So. As I see it, I have 30 seconds starting…now. Like I was saying…
Dale: Have you considered a career in trading? You’re kind of ruthless.”

“Me: Hi this is Clare calling from my own personal hell etc etc etc
Ron: Im busy, fuck yourself.
Me: Listen, mister. I am having kind of a day and believe you me if fucking myself was an option Id not be sitting here talking to you.
Ron: What?!
Me: I haven’t gotten any in a very long time and I don’t get paid enough to be told to fuck myself by someone like you so you are going to sit there and listen to every god damn word I have to say, do you understand?
Ron: Yes ma’am.”
“Me: Hi this is Clare calling from my own personal hell etc etc etc
Paul: Just email me the information, I don’t have time to talk to you.
Me: Great, that’s exactly what I was shooting for.
Paul:…..
Me: Truthfully, I’m a shitty sales person, I’m only doing it temporarily and I hate it. I just needed to tick someone off the list so it looks like I’ve actually done something productive. So you’ve totally made my day. Can I get your email?
Paul: After that, you can have as much of my time as you want.”

“Earl: WHAT?
Me: Hi this is Clare cal…
Earl: <exasperated> What?!
Me: Hi this is Clare cal…
Earl: I heard you, what?! <obviously wants to know what I want>
Me: HI THIS IS CLARE cal..
Earl: What?!
Me: <louder> HI THIS IS CLARE CAL…
Earl: <click>”

So, I still hate sales, but I have managed to keep myself pretty entertained for the time being.

We should start a BPBC betting pool: How long until Clare is escorted out of the building.

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Clare’s Guide To Being A Good Ex During The Holidays

It’s finally the holiday season! Which means one thing, without fail.

I know what you’re thinking. Turkey! Stuffing! Presents! Yuletide! Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade! Christmas Morning!

Well, as usual, you’re wrong.

Read The Rest >>

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Writers Block Blows

The worst thing in the world when you’re a writer is writer’s block. I thought that after I cut the idiot ex out of my life, things would totally turn around for me professionally. And I was completely wrong. And for one stupid reason. Read The Rest >>

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Sometimes I miss him. I gotta work on my aim.

This weekend, a brilliant amazing thing happened.

At some point this weekend, be it between the shopping spree of epic proportions (and I do mean epic), the manicure, or the drinking myself into oblivion, I finally removed my head from my ass. Read The Rest >>

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I’m back, bitches!

Its been a super long time since I’ve posted anything anywhere and I’m sorry.

Kinda.

I don’t even have some amazing story to why I was gone. I wasn’t saving starving children or anything. My asthma was acting up and I was laid up sicker than shit. Thanks for the flowers and cards, ya assholes. When I finally stopped feeling like death, my laptop took a crap and I lost a big hunk of what I was working on. Since then I’ve been trying to put together the shattered pieces of my life.

Here are some of the things I’ve learned while being deathly ill:

1. Don’t ever go grocery shopping while on steroids. They make you eat. A lot. I looked into my cart, and there were 4 different kinds of chicken, lucky charms, oatmeal, mashed potatoes and creamed corn. I don’t know either, don’t ask. Read The Rest >>

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Revenge is better than sex

I saved the emo for my blog (if you’re really that interested, go there).

But I was feeling all sorts of fucked up about a few past relationships.

And It’s almost 2 AM. And nothing pisses me off more than having my sleep schedule fucked up.

Instead of discussing how he ripped my heart out and stomped on it leaving me to be a frigid, unfeeling bitch for the rest of my time on this god forsaken planet, I decided to write something that everyone universally enjoys.

Revenge.

Read The Rest >>

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The…Something…Speaks

Hi there.

I’m Clare.

You will not see my boobs.

What the hell am I talking about, give me enough tequila and you’ll totally see my boobs. I just had no way to start this post, because I’m generally bad at introducing myself, mostly because my reputation precedes me. I am responsible for the 50 Mistakes Women Make When Having Sex (The article, not the mistakes themselves). My writing has been featured in FHM, thatsjustnotright.com, intelligenthumor.com, and at disgruntledworkforce.com. Among others.

If you go to Netscape.com, you can see a picture of my bright smiling face on the front page.

So what the hell am I doing here?

I have no idea. It looked like you needed a new token female, you know, besides Dan. I’m all for doing my friends favors. And charging them dirty pictures for them. I’m not a fan of the term “Token female” because I don’t like the implication that is attached to it. The women who come here can speak for themselves and certainly don’t need a “token anything” to do it. But I digress.

So, let’s get this show on the road.

Things You Shouldn’t Expect From Me:

1. Regular posts. I can’t even claim to be busy. I just go through phases. But if you ask, I will totally lie and claim that my personal life is insane.

2. Tact. I’m not sure what happened to me but I lost the ability to shut my mouth (ESPECIALLY when I should) sometime around college. I won’t apologize for this, as I only apologize when I am genuinely sorry, which happens about as often as Britney Spears wears underpants.

3. Feminazi bullshit. I shave my legs. Not always regularly, but I do. I work in a male dominated field. I love boys. I don’t need a parade because  I have ovaries. However, when I do have PMS, chances are I will post here and offend 98% of the audience. (Refer to item #2.)

4. I will not post about sex like I invented it. I am comfortable enough with myself to not post the more sensitive details of my life. Chances are the only time I will use the word “dildo” is when I’m talking about my ex boyfriend. And only because that’s what I call him.

Things You Should Expect From Me:

1. At some point, I will tell someone to fuck themselves. They will probably deserve it. But, this is Dan’s playground, thus I will eventually suck it up and try to behave. He’s only given me a few guidelines, which speaks volumes about the trust he’s placing in me. The other sites I write for handed me 15 or so pages of things I can’t say and do. (It never really stopped me but you have to give them props for trying).

2. Although I have a cooter, I tend to get along with men better than women. That being said, I am not angry really. I tried that angry, alterna chick thing. It made me look washed out and I felt like a tool. (It also spawned many a conversation between me and my family about how no, I am not gay, I am just full of fury and rage). I am alpha female on more than one male dominated website, and I don’t understand being angry at other women just for being there. I was a women’s studies minor in college, I got my fill of crazy bitches there.

3. I make fun of everyone. Everyone. Sometimes I write shit even I don’t believe. It’s one of those sacrifices you make for your craft, or some such shit.

4. I swear. A lot. Spare me the lecture on how smart people can communicate without using profanity. I’ve turned it into an artform.

5. I will share entirely too much information. The more it grosses people out, the more likely I am to do it. I really am like a 10 year old boy in a 25 year old female’s body.

6. I will get drunk and post. It will be ridiculous. Try not to make fun of me too much.

Anyway, I think that about covers it. I just wanted to make a quick “hi, this is the type of bitch I am” post before I drink myself to sleep.

In short: There’s a new token female, bitches.

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