TO THE INCOMPETENT FOOL IN CHARGE OF A POWER AND LIGHTING COMPANY THAT WILL REMAIN UNNAMED:
You, sir, are an annoying twat.
No, I will not keep it civil. I will watch my language whenever the hell I please, and thanks to your tireless efforts, it appears I will be doing so in the dark. For the second day in a row, that is. I am not even upset about the fact that the lights went off while I was in the middle of war with Barcelona for the Champions League title. It does not bother me in the least that I was just about to score the goal that would win me the match when I was plunged into darkness and my computer monitor gave a mournful beep and went off. No, that is hardly the reason for my indignation.
Rather, it is the simple fact that I called your office, and the idiot I managed to raise (after waiting ten minutes, no less) was actually unaware that we had been without power for twelve hours. He was genuinely surprised to hear it, and after a series of mouse clicks on his end, he mumbled something about transformer complications and gave me a very helpful piece of advice: to wait. My quarrel is not with him, so I will refrain from dispensing insults where they are not intended. I make no promises, however. There is such a thing as a stray bullet.
So, quite simply, sir, this is not a complaint. This is not another customer airing his grievances. I have seen enough of those online. It is clear that you are incapable of running your company, so I will not bother explaining to you just how deep the well of your incompetence goes. I will, however, devote the remaining paragraphs to insulting you. Few things motivate quite as well as a timely gibe. This is not constructive criticism either. It is simple, pure, undisguised abuse. In the event that you see it fit to sue me, you are more than welcome to the millions I don’t have. (Full disclosure, I got that line from a movie).
To the insults, then. If ever you manage to drag yourself out of the fort of stupidity behind which you cower in your mindless stupor, take a moment to reflect on how fundamentally worthless you are. Surely, the criterion used to appoint you hinged on something else: mental ability could not possibly have been a factor. Perhaps they went with the person they felt was closest to being morbidly obese. I hear that is important for desk jobs such as yours. If the simple task of keeping the power on baffles you, then I cannot imagine how you get through the Herculean task that is getting dressed every morning. In this moment, you are the most unbelievably dense wart-
Oh, look, the power is back on!