I work for Emergency Roadside Assistance (ERS) and that means I get to deal with all the lovely people who call when stranded.
Now granted, situations on the highway are extremely unnerving but I would like it if the member for once understood I don’t have a tow truck chasing their ass so they need to give me at least a hint of where they are.
I answer the phone, give my greeting, ask if they’re somewhere safe, they answer no, they are in a highway. Got it. Make it a priority call.
Getting her to verify address and contact information was a nightmare but she did and I was speeding along as best as I could, with her exasperated sighs and tutting because I was too slow.
I ask for her location.
“But how am I supposed to know? I don’t know where I am!”
I mute the phone and bang my head against the desk. I just have to do this for one more hour.
“Miss, you said you were in a highway, correct? What is the highway number?”
“I don’t know. I am at exit 99AA on a highway in Bumfuck Egypt. Maybe highway 85.”
I search and just as I suspected, there is no exit with that number or letter group. I relay this information to her, ask her to give me coordinates, guide her through the process, LOCATE HER BITCH ASS AND SHE HAS THE GALL TO SAY:
“You were so useless, I had to do all the legwork, what’s your name so I can report you?”
I gave her my name and spelled it extra slow, she hung up and now I am here begging for the shift to be over already.