I had to call Microsoft today because I had some questions about Outlook. I figured I would call, get my answer, and be done with it.
Such an idealist.
I made sure to choose Microsoft CANADA, called the number, and listened to the ring be interrupted by static noise every 2 seconds. It was then that I could only assume I was calling as a camel was walking over the wires in a tiny northern Indian town.
Sure enough, my call is answered by a 4 year old Philippino girl with a thick accent and a penchant for calling me 'ma'am'.
Yeah, she was in the Philippines. When I call to speak to someone about my problem in Canada, I would like to speak to a Canadian. Or, at the very least, a North American.
Tiny Philippino With Annoying Accent (TPWAA): Oh, are you calling from Canada, ma'am?
Me: Um, yes. Why? Where are you?
TPWAA: We are located in the Philippines, ma’am.
Me: Fantastic.
TPWAA: What is jdfafdsjk sdnakfl ahfjash?
Me: What?
TPWAA: Are you jfadfdhl ijhaduifh?
Me: Yes?
TPWAA: Great. Thank you, ma'am. I will transfer you to our professional department.
Me: What the hell just happened there?
The connection is lost (or they hung up on my racism loving ass). I call back, hoping that I get someone not halfway around the world.
Professional Department Dude: Hello, Microsoft Professional Department. Dfhaskldfj adhfaisgh?
Are you fucking kidding me?
