WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TYPING?

Like most law school grads, I work as an errand boy. That’s right, I go on errands. You know what though? it doesn’t really bother me that I had to go buy a toilet bowl cleaner yesterday. ..i’m cool with that, sometimes dudes really punish toilet bowls, and those joints need to be cleaned. However, what I can’t seem to handle, and never will be able to handle is waiting on line at the bank and dealing with bank tellers and or customer service reps. Why is that 95% (the other 5% look like her) of people who work behind the customer service desk are the most uneducated, unhelpful , horrible attitude having, eye rolling, gum snapping people on earth. Lets also not forget the retardedly dimwitted. No matter how nice you try to be, these people are the worst. They attempt to frustrate you just so that you will leave and they won't actually have to provide any service to their customers. So obviously at 5:45 my boss tells me to go to this exchange place and get these British pounds turned back into dollars. I look at my watch, look at him, look at my watch and just shake my head…come on bro, its 5:45. So I’m waiting on line to get 200 British pounds turned back into US lootcakes and this lady in front of me starts wild’n out about the fact that one of her ten-spots is counterfeit and she can’t believe the bank won’t let her take it with her. This lady starts calling everybody, her boyfriend, her sister, her lawyer, all while screaming and throwing a straight-up fit. Damn lady, nobody gives a shit about 10 bills…I live at my mom’s crib and I’ll still burn a fuckin 10 dollar bill right in front of your face: I’m broke as a motherfucker, but you won’t catch me throwing a fit over a 10 spot, and guess what, there better be a few more zeros attached to that 10 for you to be calling lawyers. Basically,…You’re a JERK, get off the line. Anyway, so I’m next in line and I know this bank teller is ready to beef with me.

Bro: “Excuse me, I’d like to exchange this for US dollars at the current rate, thanks.”
Awful Customer Service person: “mmm-hmmmm.”

WRONG RESPONSE YOU FUCKING SLOB: mmmm-hmmm? Is that fuckin English??? How about, “Sure!” or “Okay,” or maybe even “no problem,” or “sure, one second.” Anything remotely resembling the courtesy with which I asked you, god body. So this lady starts typing away at her little computer for, no-joke, at least 15 minutes. What the fuck could she have possibly been typing for that long? All you need is a multiplication table, some US dollars, some British pounds, and I can be on my way. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TYPING LADY??????? After ten minutes I’m so heated, I start mock typing against the counter, mimicking her head and hand movements, until she finally looks up at me, rolls her eyes, and keeps typing. So, like a little child, I keep typing away at my fake computer, all while thinking that this lady is typing in huge 26 font letters… I WEAR UNDERWEARS WITH DICK HOLES IN EM, I WEAR UNDERWEARS WITH DICK HOLES IN EM, I WEAR UNDERWEARS WITH DICKHOLES IN EM…. Over and over again. Around 6:30 I roll out of this place, furious, with only the image of that fat shit and her stupid underwears with dickholes in em.