Customer Disservice

We've all experienced piss poor customer service at some time in our lives. Several examples of such travesties of capitalism have been finding their way to the web in recent days, including a recording of a customer's attempt to escape the clutches of his AOL subscription and a video of a Comcast employee sleeping on another customer's couch. Look out, Susan Wornick; the Interweb is taking your job!

First off, I would like to assure you that you'll never experience such shitty service from I Stole Your Lunch. Sure, you may occasionally find one of our representatives passed out in your living room, but that's the kind of thing you have to deal with when you employ hobos and pay them in bathtub gin. Just give Boxcar Willie a good shake and a glass of water and he'll be on his way with a thank you and a smile. And if you're real lucky, he'll bust out the harmonica and serenade you with a classic rail ridin' hobo ditty before he goes.

To prove just how well we here at I Stole Your Lunch serve our customers, here's a transcript of a conversation between a customer and one of our phone representatives:


Representative: This is Boxcar Willie. What the fuck do you want?

Caller: Uh, hi...I was calling to cancel my account.

Boxcar Willie: Well, I would like the name and address of that asshole conductor who tossed me off the train in Boise last week, but we don't all get want we want, now does we?

Caller: No, but...I would think something as simple as cancelling my account...

Boxcar Willie: Simple? Simple? Everytime an ISYL account is cancelled, an old woman shits herself.

Caller: Um...

Boxcar Willie: So why would you want to cause that? It could be your own mother, you insensitive clod!

Caller: I just want to cancel my account...

Boxcar Willie: Tell me something. You got a girl?

Caller: ...I'm married, yeah, but that's none of your -

Boxcar Willie: She put out?

Caller: We are quite happy together, thank you very much!

Boxcar Willie: Then you might want to keep your subscription. Ninety percent of men who cancel a subscription to I Stole Your Lunch never again feel the touch of a woman.

Caller: So you mean people have actually been able to cancel? How many?

Boxcar Willie: Four.

Caller: Wait...ninety percent of four isn't a whole number. How can ninety percent of four men...

Boxcar Willie: One guy sold his kidney. It wound up in a porn star.

Caller: Awesome. Now just cancel the account.

Boxcar Willie: Why?

Caller: I don't use it anymore.

Boxcar Willie: Why?

Caller: Because I don't.

Boxcar Willie: Why?

Caller: Because I...I switched to MySpace.

Boxcar Willie: You poor, pathetic wretch.

Caller: I...I know...I'm ashamed...but all my friends are on it.

Boxcar Willie: That's no excuse, and you know it.

Caller: Yeah...

Boxcar Willie: All the cool kids have blogs.

Caller: But...it's so tempting...

Boxcar Willie: Here's what I'm going to do...I'm going to leave your I Stole Your Lunch account active...and if you delete your MySpace account within 24 hours, I'll kidnap your mother-in-law and ditch the body in a dumpster outside the station in Des Moines.

Caller: You will...that's...wow, what a deal! Thanks Boxcar Willie! I'm sorry I thought about leaving I Stole Your Lunch!

Boxcar Willie: Damn straight. Now your mother-in-law...will she fit in a Hefty bag, or do I have to go to Home Depot and get a tarp?


Wow! Now that's service! I Stole Your Lunch solemnly promises not to let you make the mistake of joining MySpace. Talk about a company who cares!