Last night at work I got a call from an old guy (the selection process for a certain US-based reverse-mortgage company is outsourced to my call center). Now basically my job is to ask him a few questions about how old he is and how much money is left on the mortgage, then the computer tells me if he's qualified or not. If he's qualified, I tell him they'll call back. If he's not, he freaks out and I laugh my ass off (needless to say, I love my job). This particular old man was a bit more inquisitive than the rest however.
Old man (getting agitated at my refusal to stop reading off the screen, or 'sounding like a computer' in his geriatric parlance): What the hell state are you in anyway!
Tach: I'm not in a state at all.
Old Man: Well where are you then, Korea?
Tach (fighting the urge to say yes): No, I'm in Canadia, sir.
Old Man: CANADA? Well you better delete all my information then...I won't deal with Canadians.
Tach (trying to grin and talk at the same time): But sir, we only handle the selection process to save the US company money. Can I just put your order through..
Old Man (ranting, possibly to me, maybe to himself): You Canadians...you don't even believe in the war or nothin...
Tach: Nope.
Old Man: Well I'm not a fan of mister Bush myself, but I just...I can't deal with the Canadian people. DELETE MY INFORMATION RAWWWRRR!
Tach: Sure thing, have a great day sir.
The moral of the story is that the US should donate all their old people to Canada for use as igloo mortar.
