We hear a lot of weird and wonderful things in our office and deal with a variety of people (mainly morons or all shapes and sizes), but yesterday's overheard conversation between my colleague and the receptionist at British American Tobacco (BAT) takes the cake...
This is what I heard:
L: 'Hi, my name is L____ and I'd just like to know whether your offices are in Cape Town or Johannesburg.
What? Yes, I'm over 18.
No, I don't smoke.
No, I just want to know whether your offices are in Cape Town or Jo'burg.
Ok, let me explain: I'm a journalist from ______ and I've been commissioned to write a profile on BAT for the book ______, but I am based in Jo'burg, so if your offices are in Cape Town I will need to pass it on to another journalist. So, as I said, *adopts I'm-talking-to-a-five-year-old tone* all I need to know is: are your offices in Cape Town or in Johannesburg?
*pause; laughs hysterically.*
Ok, ok, FINE!
*Slams down the phone and bangs head repeatedly on the desk* (To me:) She's not allowed to communicate with me at all, because I'm not a smoker!
How's that for strange? I figure she should've bought a pack, smoked one and called back, saying, "All that has changed now... So can you communicate with me?"
My job is a joke. Once again, free therapy for all journos!