I’M THORRY THIR!

I never thought it would be possible but I managed to meet ALL of bb’s extended family in the same day! It was a harrowing experience to say the least. Never say never!

There I was, minding my own business, out running errands and taking care of business on my unusual Thursday, day off. I figured I’d brave the ignorant masses all on one day and spend the next three days tucked away like Billy says in my own Fortress of Assholitude.

I have a small pistol that refuses to go bang every time I pull the trigger. I attempted a minor repair to fix it but it still jams 1/3 of the time. I called the manufacturer to find out what they could do and they issued an RMA to return it to them. So, my running of errands involved a hand gun and everyone knows that when running errands that involve a handgun, it’s best to take care of the handgun first.

The manufacturer offered to send me a flat rate $30 FedEx return label but said that due to my proximity to their location I could probably get a better rate by going to a local shipping store. I went to my local shipping store and met bb’s mother, fat, bald head and all. She said she could not help me as she had no access to the shipping rate for firearms and that I would have to go to “the mother ship” (her actual words) for that. Turns out she was just a lying, gun hating liberal bitch who can apparently afford to turn away business.

I drive across town to the mother ship to get a quote and I am told that the shipping store I went to was lying. Anyway the guy (I later determine to be bb the second) says he can ship my gun (I was very specific about there being a gun in the box) for $21 no problem and hands me a box and an air bill (label) which he partially filled out. I run home to pack up the gun including a letter describing the issues and fill out the blank parts of the air bill before heading back to the FedEx mother ship.

From my house it’s a 50 minute round trip. I get down there and bb the second is gone but bb the third is there to help, complete with a slack jawed, drooling grin. I hand him everything and he announces that it will be $65. I explain that I had just spoken with bb the second not more than 1.5 hours earlier and was quoted a price of $21 and given an air bill which he had filled out. bb the third replies, with a lisp: I’m thorry thir but that is the price. I ask why the hell I was quoted a much lower price earlier and he says he can show me the rules and repeats: I’m thorry thir! I start ranting that this is my second 50 minute round trip to the mother ship and I’m tired of being jerked around by incompetent idiots to which he replies: I’m thorry thir!

At this point I’m about to ask bb the third what EXACTLY is he sorry for? Is it that he’s sorry his mother was raped by a baboon and chose not to have an abortion? Is it that he’s sorry he works for a company that is clearly unable to train all of its employees to the same level of (in) competency? Is it that he’s sorry that despite several generations of intensive inbreeding, bb’s progeny continue to be pig fucking ignorant? I almost said: OK motherfucker, I’m ready to put pen to paper and list ALL of the shit you’re sorry about regarding this transaction so let’s hear it Corky! Instead I just shook my head and walked out because I could literally feel the aneurism forming.

Back in my car, suffering from the loss of several IQ points and no longer thinking clearly, I decided to go back in and speak to a manager. Out pops what might have been bb himself but I’ll refer to him as bb the fourth. Poor bastard had teeth that looked more like a row walrus tusks and you could drive a truck between each one. He starts out with: I’m sorry sir! What can I do for you? Every time I hear one of these idiots tell me they are sorry I just get more pissed off because it makes no sense to say they are sorry when I know for a fact they don’t give a shit! They get paid the same and clock out at the same time regardless how incompetent they are or how much they inconvenience the customer.

I ask bb the fourth if all FedEx employees are trained to the same level of incompetency? I actually said the word incompetency but I don’t think he caught it since he replied: yes! I explained the whole scenario and he again said: I’m sorry sir! To keep from blowing a gasket I asked bb the fourth to double check the shipping rate for my package and he confirmed the findings of bb the third. I explained that I could get a $30 flat rate label from the manufacturer and asked if there would be any further issues if I returned with that label attached to the box to which he replied no.

I went back to my car and purchased a label from the manufacturer over the phone and headed home to print and attach the label thus ending 50 minute round trip number two. All I could hear driving home was: I’m thorry thir! playing over and over in my head in the same voice and cadence as the lady answering the phones in the movie Office Space.

Upon my third arrival at the mother ship I’m again greeted by bb the third who acts as if he has never even seen me before. I ask him to check that everything is in order because this is my third attempt to get this package out to which he replies in a voice of surprise: oh yeah, you were in here earlier right? I said yes, I was just here an hour ago. He tells me that everything is in order and I said “third times a charm!” I then told him I’d make a bet with him for $100 that my package would never reach its destination. He declined to take the bet. They’ll probably ship the damn thing to my return address on Monday!

After the cost of my time, gas, wear & tear, insurance, registration, loss of IQ points and shortening of lifespan I should have just smashed the gun with a sledge hammer and bought a new one! With my concealed carry permit I can purchase and walk out of the store with any gun in a matter of minutes!

Next stop was at the bank to make a mortgage payment. Of course I get a teller trainee who has apparently never used a PC before. She doesn’t appear to be as fucked up as bb’s mother who I’d met earlier at the shipping store but looks can be deceiving. I dub her bb’s grandmother as she continually says: I’m sorry sir! while she incompetently strikes computer keys. After about ten minutes she finishes my transaction and hands me a receipt.

I step over to another desk to close a savings account which initially earned me a discount on my mortgage but no longer serves any purpose except to generate a statement every month. I’m greeted by what turned out to be bb’s sister. She too seemed to have never operated a PC before and uttered the dreaded and meaningless: I’m sorry sir! as she tried to complete the task at hand. With my Fortress of Assholitude coming into view I began to breathe a sigh of relief when bb’s sister asks me the stupidest question I’ve ever heard as she tried to make small talk while incompetently fingering her keyboard…………So, are you happy with your mortgage? F u c k m e d e a d! I looked at her and said no actually, I’m not. To which I again hear: I’m sorry sir! What seems to be the problem? I just said “I have one!” She looked confused before acting like she got it.

I’m now referring to this bb-esque increase in stupidity among the public as The Quickening! My wife and I went out to dinner last night. The hostess seated us with menus. After about two minutes the waitress comes over and asks if we are ready to order and I say not yet to which she asks: Do you need a few more minutes? I just looked at my wife and said “I’m telling you, it’s The Quickening!” My wife got a big laugh out of it and continues to laugh as we work around the yard this weekend with me constantly saying: I’m thorry thir! in my best Bullwinkle voice!

We are truly doomed!

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16 Comments
Billy
Billy
September 20, 2014 5:21 pm

Good story, bro! I got some shit to do, but I’ll be back to post a genuine comment later on… it has to do with the very same thing – sending a firearm via FedEx. I think we even met some of the same people…

You were saying “I’m thorry thir!” like Bullwinkle… while I was reading your tale of woe, I was imagining them saying it in Patrick’s voice from Spongebob…

Winston
Winston
September 20, 2014 8:50 pm

That is quite possibly the funniest shit I have ever read in my life! Thanks for the smiles! Well done!

Stucky
Stucky
September 20, 2014 9:04 pm

I_S

Helluva story. May I just say one thing? I’m sorry you went through all that. heh heh

Incompetence, especially in the retail world, is literally everywhere. I’d guess that 95% of retail salespeople are dumbfuks. Professionals are almost as bad. We had some plumbing problems last year … had to call the plumber back twice for the same problem. New kitchen floor installed about a year ago … the boards are separating in one corner. It’s almost endless, really.

Too many bb’s in ‘Murika. Poor old bb.

Billy
Billy
September 20, 2014 10:47 pm

I_S,

okay, back… but down one hand… got my right hand splinted up…

Bout a year ago, I decided to get a particular revolver – a very special one – worked on. Colt’s Dragoon. 3rd Model. Decided to have it converted to fire cartridges.

Well, I have the skills to make the conversion myself. My Kung Fu is strong. Problem is, I don’t have a shop built yet. (Got over the first hurdle – zoning – two weeks ago. Now we can move on design and bidding the work… but that’s another story.)

Anyways, it has to go to a specialty shop – one that specializes in converting BP revolvers to fire cartridges…

So, I make sure it’s unloaded, pack up the new parts, put it all in it’s box. That box goes into a shipping box with a bunch of packing peanuts. Off I go to the local FedEx satellite, about an hour north of here.

I get there. Tiny place, with the usual packing crap along the walls, prices and sizes marked.

“Hi, can I help you?”
“Yeah, this box has to go to (fill in the blank). I need it insured for $1500.”
“No problem. Just fill out this form.”

So, I’m filling out the form, and the kid behind the counter asks: “What’s in the box?”

Busy filling out the form, I absently say: “Huh? Oh, a blackpowder revolver. Colt’s Dragoon. Going out for service.”

“We can’t ship that.”

Wait… what?

“Scuze me? What do you mean you can’t ship that?”
“I’m sorry, sir. Can’t ship handguns.”
“The hell you can’t. It’s a BLACK POWDER revolver. Not loaded. You can ship it no problem.”
“No sir, no we can’t.”
“Get your manager or owner out here…”

Old dude comes out from the back. Grey hair. Pot belly. Bad shirt. Worse breath.

“What the problem?”
“Your boy here says you can’t ship this black powder revolver.”
“That’s right. We can’t ship handguns.”
“Did you miss the part where I said this is a BLACK POWDER revolver?”
“We can’t ship handguns.”
“Why not?”
“Federal law says we can’t ship it.”

Slight facepalm on my part. Breathe deep. Don’t strangle this asshole.

“Yeah, well the ATF doesn’t even classify BLACK POWDER revolvers as firearms. I can make a call on my cell phone right now to a half a dozen different vendors and have CRATE LOADS of them shipped directly to my house through the US Mail. No FFL required. The Government says they’re NOT firearms!”
“I’m sorry, sir. We can’t ship handguns.”
“I can open the box and SHOW you it’s not a firearm! The Feds themselves SAY it’s not a firearm!”
“I’m sorry, sir. We can’t ship handguns.”

Starting to lose my temper at this point.

“I just drove an HOUR to get here! It’s NOT a firearm! The Feds say so! Are you immune to reason?”
“I’m sorry, sir. We can’t ship handguns.”

Now, I’m right pissed off.

“You BASTARD! I will NEVER come back here ever again and I will spread the word far and wide that you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I’ll go to FedEx themselves and dime your ass out for this!”
“I’m sorry, sir. We ca-”
“Kiss my entire ass!”

I storm out, throw my shit in the truck and fume for a good 5 minutes… end up driving back home – south – then PAST home and another half an hour farther on to a competitor. The transaction was a bit pricey, but dude at least knew he could ship a fucking black powder firearm.

Back home, I went to FedEx’s website and did what I swore I would do – dimed that motherfucker out. Store number, his name, address, phone number. Gave precise details as to what I was shipping, where it had to go, why, and even cited chapter and verse from the ATF saying that BP revolvers were NOT “firearms”. The words “incompetent” and “mule headed” figured prominently. I explained to them that it doesn’t matter if it’s a satellite and privately owned – folks see FEDEX on the outside of the building and equate that asshole with FedEx, and their rep – and business – takes a permanent hit.

FedEx apparently nuked this asshole – him and his rancid breath – because I got a very contrite apology email from him, via FedEx corporate. Doesn’t matter if he actually DID get down and kiss my ass, I refuse to ever use that satellite again, for any reason. And they know it. Having corporate nuke that stupid sumbitch gave me a fucking woody…

Dude, the Stupid is strong with many out there… Your Kung Fu must be stronger. Some days, it’s just one of the Infected you have to deal with. Other days, it seems like everyone is Infected. Either rude or incompetent or both. Usually both.

Makes you seriously contemplate ramming a sharpened No. 2 pencil in each ear…

Billy
Billy
September 20, 2014 11:42 pm

Oh yeah.. if a firearm is going out for service – back to the factory or a smithy – you don’t need to go thru an FFL holder…

The Fortress of Assholitude is there for a reason… deep breaths, maybe some bourbon or rum… you’re safe… decompress…

bb
bb
September 21, 2014 5:22 am

IS , I’m sorry , I really am sorry you had such a bad day.I’m sorry you didn’t have enough sense to buy a Glock. I am sorry you had to deal with so many people. Looks like you’re not very good at it.
FedEx substations can bring tribulations . They are also regulated now by about 20 different government agencies especially when dealing with firearms.Most of my work is as a subcontractor driving between terminals and then doing some things inside each terminal. They keep us busy.
One last thing I S ,it will not get any better at FedEx or any place else and I’m….. SORRY.

Billy
Billy
September 21, 2014 2:25 pm

Hey I_S…

This is how I normally feel when dealing with the Infected…

By the way, the only Spongbob episodes that are funny as hell are the ones up to the Movie… probably the first 3 or 4 seasons… after the movie, the original writers all left and it just got stupid….

Oh, after Man Ray gets pissed off in the below clip, he beats the fuck out of Patrick… just body slams his ass all over the place… but that got cut…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ckl2pNhuMR0

Stucky
Stucky
September 21, 2014 5:40 pm

I_S

Thing about bb is that he actually posts some very good stuff from time to time. Unlike yourself and others here whom I feel I have a good handle on ….. well, I just don’t know who the “real” bb is. Does he post stupid shit just to get a rise out of us? Are the good posts the real bb? Who the fuck knows? I don’t. So, I just take it post-by-post.

Hey … thanks for the plumbing tips. Some damn good tips there. I appreciate it.

Llpoh
Llpoh
September 21, 2014 8:20 pm

IS – I have a particular skill that I am able to bring to bear in situations such as you describe. I am able to abuse these assholes for hours without ever using foul language or crossing the line of being truly abusive, or repeating myself. People that have seen me do it talk about it for years afterwards. My wife is always astonished. As a result of this particular skill I almost always get what I want. There are two exceptions to this.

First, I have found it impossible to deal with banks and their minions. I have never been successful in getting anywhere with those ignorant fucks. If I have an issue, I now immediately go thermonuclear, and go straight to my personal – and very senior – bank manager. “Hey, Steve – one of the minions at such and such branch is fucking with me. Sic ’em.” Steve,knowing me well, and understanding that me and my company are significant clients, immediately sics said minion.

Without that pull, I would get nowhere with banks.

Second, I can get nowhere with airlines. Nor do I know anyone who can. I have never managed to get a manager. I can never get a full name of the said incompetent minion – “this is Sally – how can I fuck up your day?” Airlines are set up so as to make it impossible to move up the chain. Try to find a phone number or means of escalating an issue. So far, I have never managed it. I would love advice re how to deal with fucking airlines.

On the other hand, I have eventually overcome issues with travel agents – by concentrating business and personal purchases, we have increased our clout. OTHerwise, travel agents are pretty hard to deal with, too. At times.

IS – I feel your pain.