Our home security system is being updated today, and the guy in charge is just peak Gen Z, no professional fucks given vibe and it’s hysterical.
“I mean, I’m supposed to recommend stuff, like you should probably put a sensor on that window too, but like, that’s really a you decision. I just have to say this stuff out loud so I don’t get sued if you get broken into.”
“So, like, just to clarify, you don’t want the cameras, right? Only I need to make sure because sometimes people say no on the phone, and then when I’m leaving, they ask me why I haven’t installed the cameras yet, and I’m just like, that’s a you problem, I’m going home.”
*leaning around the corner of my office to talk to me* “Hey, do you know where [Mothman] went? Actually, never mind, you’re probably the detail-oriented one. I can tell by the *gestures at my candy-floss-colored goth office* whatever this is.
So like, the new alarm panel is smaller than the old one, and the old one pulled off some of the paint, I can try to hide it, but it won’t be perfect… You don’t care? Sweet. I’m always ready for people to yell at me.”
“Hey, so I need to test the smoke alarm before we put it up, but I don’t want to frighten your little dog. I’ll try to muffle it, but you might want to hold her.” *clutching the alarm to his abdomen like Steve Rogers falling on a grenade* “I’m sorry little dog, I’m so sorry.”
(via you-me-and-the-banshee)






















