Just tryin’ to keep the customer satisfied.

Crowley revels in the fact that he’s a nasty, opinionated, toad. Other people don’t find this to be particularly savory. Other people don’t know what they’re missing out on. Anyway, since the last few posts have been largely about Crowley, he feels it’s time to introduce a new character onto The Blackbeard Chronicles.

Blogosphere, please welcome my dear friend, Ms. Whiskey Bar. (*Drum-roll and fanfare* - Whiskey Bar yells, “AAY, KAANDRAVI” - That’s Tamil for “Oi. You useless fuck”)

Now, Whiskey Bar is a genial, boisterous sort of gal; a single malt connoisseur, who can put away copious amounts of alcohol with few visible side effects, especially if there’s Ozzy, Iron Maiden or Metallica blasting away in the background; and who puts up extremely well with stupid people. I mean it. She makes me look like the world’s most impatient git.

A few days back, however, a shaken Whiskey calls me up and wails, “Crowley, I never thought people could get THIS stupid. I’m stumped – I truly am. I have no fucking clue what to do with these cunts.”

I, being in an unusually consolatory mood, say, “Ah, come on Whiskey. I know you work with a bunch of idiotic grande dames, but it can’t be that bad.”

As it turned out, it wasn't the women in Whiskey’s office who were getting her goat. It was a woman (or possibly several of them) (or, actually, could be men too – age and gender are unknown at the moment) sitting half a globe away, dressed in Armani, sighing at her newest pair of Jimmy Choos. While poor old Whiskey sits in a stuffy cubicle in overheated Delhi, snarling at her laptop screen in abject rage and frustration at having her evening torn to shreds.

Whiskey works for an organisation that specializes in economic research. She was tasked with drafting a report for an overseas client, on the education sector in India. Whiskey assiduously got down to the task, collected data, interviewed some of the bigwigs in the field, and prepared a comprehensive and well-drafted report.

The client sends the report back with some truly mind-boggling comments, such as (for ease of reference, I’ve put this down as the relevant portion of the report, followed by the comment):

1. Report: “75% of all Class 3 students in India are boys.”

Comment: “What are the other 25%? Please specify with sources” (I love this one, I really do.)

2. Report: “The XYZ Foundation, with its philanthropic gestures, has been at the forefront of the privately funded initiative in the primary education sector. This Foundation has……This Foundation has also been involved in….” (This is all part of the same paragraph, which, interestingly is titled “XYZ Foundation’s Initiatives”)

Comment: “Please explain the meaning of ‘philanthropic gestures’. Please also specify which Foundation is being referred to here.”

3. Report: “There has been a steady growth in the demand for higher education in the following States for the period…..”

Comment: “Does this mean there has been a growth in terms of numbers?”

Incredible, isn’t it? And these comments are from an internationally recognized aid and funding agency. Look, if you ask for a report from an English-speaking organisation, based in an English-speaking (well, largely) country, we really can’t help it if you can’t understand the damn thing because your addled brain can’t comprehend anything other than Japanese or Mandarin or Turkish.

Hire a translator; God knows you can afford an army of them. Or buy a dictionary. Or go to friggin’ dictionary.com, if you’re feeling cheap. Get a fucking BRAIN.

Whiskey snarled something about writing them a nasty email, with a small picture of 2 middle fingers, and an offer to courier to them a large dictionary, if that would help things along.

I told her to ask them what it was they were snorting, ‘cause, hell, I want some of that shit too!