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My company shares office space with a lawyer's office, and my particular slice of heaven is adjacent to the legal secretary's desk. As a result, I get to listen to her side of every conversation.
I couldn't do her job. No way. As I listen to her explaining the legal system and how it pertains to the caller's situation right at that moment, I get a picture of how mind-bogglingly stupid people can be. I couldn't take those calls without eventually losing my patience, as in:
"I'm sorry, but we don't set the fines you have to pay, or the sentence you'll have to serve....uh-huh...yes, the judge makes that determination...right...no we don't have the power to do that...no, we-- sir, screaming at me isn't going to reduce the judgement...sir..? Sir..?"
"Hang on. Are you listening? Are you listening carefully? Ready to take notes? Take note of this: you aren't the victim, here. If you hadn't been such a FUCKING MORON as to drive around town with an open beer bottle in your hand, a vial of crack in the glovebox, a loaded 9mm pistol with a round in the chamber under the seat, and speeding in a school zone nearly running down a small child, you wouldn't be in this situation, and it isn't our job to fix what passes for your life, capiche? You BELONG in jail. Cut your losses and be thankful for thirty days and a fine, asshat."
Well, I could do her job, but not more than once.
I couldn't do her job. No way. As I listen to her explaining the legal system and how it pertains to the caller's situation right at that moment, I get a picture of how mind-bogglingly stupid people can be. I couldn't take those calls without eventually losing my patience, as in:
"I'm sorry, but we don't set the fines you have to pay, or the sentence you'll have to serve....uh-huh...yes, the judge makes that determination...right...no we don't have the power to do that...no, we-- sir, screaming at me isn't going to reduce the judgement...sir..? Sir..?"
"Hang on. Are you listening? Are you listening carefully? Ready to take notes? Take note of this: you aren't the victim, here. If you hadn't been such a FUCKING MORON as to drive around town with an open beer bottle in your hand, a vial of crack in the glovebox, a loaded 9mm pistol with a round in the chamber under the seat, and speeding in a school zone nearly running down a small child, you wouldn't be in this situation, and it isn't our job to fix what passes for your life, capiche? You BELONG in jail. Cut your losses and be thankful for thirty days and a fine, asshat."
Well, I could do her job, but not more than once.