So this is a rant I wrote some time ago while I was very over stressed and angry at work. Me and multiple co-workers have created an imaginary Customer Service hit man from constant hell at work. When we have a client that is a nightmare we joke about adding them to bobs list.

I tried of getting this as dark as possible in attempting to portray someone that has snapped from working Customer Service too long.

Here is bobs rant:



As seething rage stains the essence of my already blackened soul I find myself lost within a torrent of entwined emotions that tear like demons at the very edges of my sanity and reality. A maelstrom of darkness leashed by the vast army of Hades swells within my breast, mutating the erratic beats that give me life. As I battle myself against these horrendous and excruciatingly violent thoughts, I pitifully try to guide these welling emotions of unfathomable and wordless putrescence back into the abyssal depths from which they first spawned.

I am continually plagued within the darkness of myself as a small and helpless entity that is nothing more than a byproduct of anger and insanities twisted trickeries. Still I search within the riddled dimensions of this endless void and yet cannot find a single beam of light to give any sense of direction. I am sinking into the cold depths of rage within myself and am becoming impenetrable from every direction to what one might consider meaningful or happy. The very thought of laughter sickens me to the point in which hearing it feeds the flames that is my loathing.

I fear the end of life is approaching like a encroaching storm holding its fury for the last and final blow that washes away cities in the blink of a eye. That de-roots mountains and up heaves continents as if it were a child playing with fragile glassware. I fear, but in some sick and disturbingly satisfying way, I welcome the atrocities that await my arrival with eager haste.

As I traverse the rift that is my mind I conclude I am death in the form of human flesh. I am the reaper summoned from hell itself to bring about the end of days. I am the gate keeper to apocalypse and the key holder of torment. I am doomed to wade through the mire of existence in a 3x3 cubicle prolonging the inevitable. As my patience slips into the nether realms of disgust I somehow summon the strength to deal with another simple mind that is titled a client. As this isolated fuse depletes, eventually I will break and lay waste to the vast regions of time and space. At the bidding of the darkest distress of abysmal impatience and frustration I leave my quarters to fulfill my mission of darkness. My name is BOB and I am the Customer service hit man.

That was awesome! I spent 5 years in customer service, it stressed me to no end, so believe me when I say I can relate!!! Beautiful piece!!! Keep on writin'!!!

That was a healthy dose of lighthearted goodwill.



My fav: "I am sinking into the cold depths of rage within myself and am becoming impenetrable..."

Back in the day, the druids were masters at it and used vitriol to hurl insults at the enemy. Your rant reminded me of such fine endeavor.

I'm going postal, it's not a show,
It's just a job, all this I know,
But you're a piss-ant, doomed to die,
I loathe your ways, and this is why.

You are the most discourteous person
I have ever been around. You're rude,
you're crude, you don't know squat,
and now I'm here to tell you what, . .
is going to happen to you today,
when you no longer, get your way.

Customer service be damned !
I've had it with you and your meanness.

Can't say please anymore can you ?
Can't say thank you anymore can you ?

Well . . . .can you say stop ?
Stop . . .as in "stop beating me about the head and shoulders" ?

How do you like that ? The customer is always right, right ?
But what's your major malfunction . . .as a person ?
You just like to be mean, don't you ?

If you ever . .don't quite get the gist,
Well too late, . .you've made Bob's list .