What are you doing working at a call center?
You exude far too much cool to work at a hell-hole like the workplace we inhabit.
In fact, merely thinking about using the word "cool" to describe what emanates from you seems utterly inadequate and certainly decidedly uncool. You strut into the building, with your bag and your jacket and your hat and your beard. You strut, although it'd be a crime to suggest that you strut knowingly. I'm sure you strut only because there is obviously no other way for you to walk.
Do you average a hundred interviews an hour because even through a telephone it's obvious you're all about the effortless cool? I'm sure one and all of your "respondents" can hear your doesn't-give-a-shit swagger through the handset. I'm sure that they can hear your magnificent and obviously well-maintained yet effortless beard.
I am going to christen you Beard. You are henceforth known as Beard. I have known men as "Beard" before, but you now cancel out any previous Beards to be the new measuring-Beard.
Beard, I'm sure you have a band. The jeans and boots tell me that this is true. I'm sure you DJ as well. It seems only natural, Beard. I bet you play the guitar. You write the songs. You could probably sing them too, but you don't give a shit.
What are you doing working at a call center? I'm working at a call center because I need money for a trip to South America. Come with me?
I have two friends at work. I arrive after waitressing all day and I'm too tired to bother to talk to everyone. We talk on the phones all night, for poo's sake. Small-talk is not on my to-do list.
I have two friends at work, but I'm more than willing to let you be my third friend. During our break everyone goes outside and chats and hangs out and I sit down read my comic book and you stand next to me and smoke your rollies and they smell quite nice and I'd certainly have one with you if you asked, Beard.
You don't talk to anyone either, and that makes you that much more interesting to me, Beard. I saw that annoying girl with red hair talking to you and you looked kind of bored. Well done, Beard. I have red hair. And I'm interesting. Plus, I like your t-shirts. I also like your hat. And your beard, Beard.
I bet you're just the right amount of smartass, cynical jerk. If you don't like that band I'm fapping on about, you'd say so. I bet you're the right amount of argumentative. Every conversation is interesting with you Beard. You're cynical, but not too cynical. You're a smartass, but not too much. I mean, I bet you love metal but I bet you also love Brian Wilson.
I think I should ask you about your top five favourite movies.
I'd ask you, but once you were in front of me in the line to sign in and you said "excuse me" when you had to walk past me and I made a choking noise.
You're very distracting at work, Beard.