Thursday, March 7, 2013

Yes, you can commit a murder-suicide right here in the showroom. Thanks for asking, Jan!

Quick Quiz: Which of the two people who make up this thirty-second little nub of an ad is more repulsive?  Is it

A)  Jan, the Way Too Happy In Her Dead-End, Mind-Numbingly Dull Job to really be allowed to live another minute Toyota spokeschoad?  This woman is so pumped up with SOMETHING illegal that she not only doesn't mind that the idiot douchebag customer (more about her in a moment) won't even pay her the common courtesy of eye contact, but that hey, she's reached thirty and all she's got to show for that college degree is a job as a chirping little salesmonkey for Toyota, or

B)  This techno-addled dweeb who is actually pathetic enough to believe that because she's managed to hound and cross-reference 4700 people into clicking "Accept" on Facebook, this somehow means that she has 4700 friends?  My guess is that the only way this dribbling idiot managed to find her way to the showroom was with the turn-by-turn directions provided by her phone, and that she'll need to download some more directions to get her pathetic worthless ass from the Help Desk to whatever model of Toyota Jan, or her phone, picks out for her.

I have to go with "B," for the simple reason that it's pretty obvious Stupid Useless Phone Addict is going to keep her eyes glued to that screen when she's supposed to be doing other things- like watching the damn road while driving her new Toyota, for example.  Jan is annoying as hell, but she isn't going to sideswipe me or run over someone like the chirpy idiot will the next time she feels the need to update her Facebook status while changing lanes on I-95.


  1. I was thinking about the new name. How about trying "The Commercial Commentator."

  2. Definitely B. I can't *stand* people like her. I haven't had to deal with choads like that in a few years, but when I did, I wanted nothing more than to pull the *!@$# phone out of their hands and chuck it across the room so they'd focus on me while I cashed them out. Since that kind of thing is frowned on, I usually counted to ten after they got to the register to give them time to get off the phone, and if they were still yammering away, I'd say, "Can I help the next person, please?" If the choad on the phone protested, I told them I didn't want to interrupt the call so I was just helping the next person while they finished.

    1. That's actually brilliant, Rogue. I'd love to see it become standard operating procedure for how to deal with wanna be CEOs trying to convince the world that their lives are such whirlwinds consisting of Uber-important conversations, and that we should feel honored to be allowed to be part of them for even a fleeting moment.