From The Point Of View Of The Economically Repressed

There are definitively times when it becomes dangerous to blog. These are times of political upheaval. Or times of social unrest. Or times where your social circumstances dictate that to talk openly you would become ostracised.

Believe or not I am partaking of these pressures even as we speak. In the modern capitalist society the threat of curtailing your economic viability is as worrying as that of the threat of castration to the average virile male.

Not that I am trying to put male promiscuity above moral value (morals where did you get those from, you didn’t have them when you lived with me?” to quote my mother).

I am at current working for a company that would have difficulty organising a pint in a brewer, let alone a piss up.

The company actually subcontracts my labour to a major media conglomerate. I am whored out at a much higher rate than the recompense the company gives to me each week. (Long live the capitalist ethic). By rumour I am charged at twenty-five pounds an hour to the customer where I earn six from the paymaster.

Here we have the fatal disparity of aims. I spend half my time in the office receiving incoming calls from disgruntled customers. (Please be assured that if your broadband connection experienced no problems being provisioned and supplied the last thing you would think of doing was ringing some premium rate call centre and congratulating them on how well they had done their job).

Now I must digress. If one where to experience bad service in some industry one would expect to have the recourse to complain obviously.. .

Now here I do have to get up on my soap box.

Please.

Please.

Please.

Do not become the self-righteous sanctimonious arse hole who gets satisfaction from off loading your petty shite about the fact that you have not got your stupid broadband connection on or near the f**king date the company said you would. I have to be honest with you. Why the f*ck would someone paid six pounds an hour really care a flying f*ck if you did or not. In fact I have to salute the stalwart individuals who in the UK take the boll*cks from self righteous prats every hour for hours just because they are so ineffectual they have no one else to take the frustration about the pitiful banality of their pathetic lives out on any one else.

Trust me one day you will meet me on the other end of the line and at that moment I will reviel to you exactly how pathetic and insignificant your existence really is and at that point your only response will be “put your manager on!” you dickless, sad basterds.

Lots of love.

Simon.

"Put down the soap box and step away with your hand's up!"
Ps BTW FYI what makes you think I am not particularily enjoying my new job?