Workin 9 - 5

It’s not really all that unusual to encounter disgruntled clients in my line of work.  And let’s face it; no one is really just ringing us to have a chat.  Let’s just say; unless we are literally pulling money out of our arses, and showering them in gold bullion, we don’t rate a mention.   Ideally it would be great if we could say, “Look, we are tax agents, not magicians and as such, can’t perform fucking magic”.   But alas, it seems we'll just have to fantasize about our magic wands being shoved up specific orifices for a little while yet.
 

But I digress.

 

Yesterday when I was called and I quote “A fucking white bitch” I was more bewildered than upset.  I mean seriously. That’s his worst?  Surely he couldn’t have used the adjectives ugly, fat or stupid like the rest of the highly strung, pissed of clients before him?   

 

I should probably set the scene here.  It was an ordinary Tuesday. Full of background radio noise peppered with occasional banter and cuss words between the four of us at work.  In walked in an enormous Samoan guy to sign his tax return.  Now, for some reason (well ok, the reason is that he’s a dickwad) he was under the impression that he would receive every single cent back of the tax that he had paid for the year.  Did I mention he had zero receipts and was gigantic?

 

So anyway, he walked in, took one look at his (very generous I thought) refund and starting making noises and huffing and puffing.  Miss C, explained very calmly the Australian Tax System and how, that the reason we have such a wonderful, democratic country is because we all play our part and pay taxes if we are able.  He just did not want to hear it.  

Apparently, his mate Iamaknobber, could do it for free and get him a better refund.  Really?  That’s awesome. Just pay our bill for the top WORK WE’VE ALREADY DONE, and you can have your shit back.  I think that’s about the time he called her a slut.  Or a fucking slut, my memory is a bit hazy.    That’s also about the time I got up and went out to help her out a little.

 

See here’s the thing. We are an all female office.  Not intentional, it’s just kind of the way it’s worked out.   As such, we find, from time to time, that the stunted male or the man who has issues with his obviously tiny penis, has a problem with that fact.  I guarantee you there is no way in the world these guys would speak to a man the way they speak to us.  That’s because they are bullies.  Pure and simple.

 

Anyhoo, I went on out and asked him to move along.  He then replied with a very damning “I will just ask my boss for a new group certificate ay!”  I informed him in my most polite tone that, “That would be fine, we will just contact our debt collectors”  He then lost his shit and thundered down on Miss C.  “Give me my stuff”  She refused and held his file close to her bosum.  Brave Miss C.  I guess in hindsight, a little silly as he could have crushed you like a little bug, but very brave.

 

That’s about the time he escaped the office and called me “A fucking white bitch”  Seriously, dude.  You had me at hello.

 

Oh and then he spat on the sidewalk and walked off in a huff.  I wish there had of been a soundtrack to his departure.  I think if it were a movie, I would have played “Hero” by Mariah Carey.

 

So at the end of the day, we called the cops. Their sage advice was to get the fuck out of dodge and not to stay back late.  Not shit Sherlock.  He never has come back.

The silly thing is, we know more about him than his proctologist ever could.  I do hope he enjoys his anal probe audit from the Australian Tax Office. 

 

He’s not the first.  He won’t be the last.  Got to say though, I think he’s the first one to give me a bit of reverse racism. 

How does your workplace go?  Pray do tell.