"Quick Question"

Anyone who's ever done technical support or customer service for longer than the 2-week training class has heard those words uttered. Those who have survived said vocation for more than a few months have heard them all too often, from both customers and co-workers. Stuck around long enough to be considered and 'old timer' (ya know.. a year or two) and those words send a shudder of fear through your standard issue Plantronics headset. It usually goes something like this:

"Support Monkey dot com, this is Bingo, how can I help you?"
"Uh Hi. Quick Question for you."
*click* *blam*
"Uh.. hello? You still there, I just had a quick question."
(new voice on the line) "I'm sorry to report your previous support monkey dot com agent has gone.. on break.. how can I help you with your 'quick question'
"Well.. I just wanted to know why every time I go to zombiesluts dot com my screen fills with pop ups making my question my gender preference and then my computer reboots. That should be easy to fix right?"
*click* *(dial-tone)*
The fact of the matter is that in no QQ Scenario is the answer either quick or easy. Any user with the ignorance to start any support/customer service interaction with these words obviously has no idea how deep in shit they are, or how to get out of it. But they've toiled over the problem long enough to contrive a concise, simple phrasing of their shit-bomb question.

Even worse is the co worker who pulls this one out.
"Hey Bingo."
"Morning Chuckles,how was poker night?"
"Quick Question for you: I was trying to create a Shopping Cart from scratch on my website, zombiesluts dot com, but none of the prices in the database are matching up with the right credit card transactions from my transaction server-"
*click click* *bang*
(coughing and sputtering, Chuckles gives one last look, eyes sad and a little confused before darkness takes over)
"Shoulda stuck to poker Chuckles."
As a support proffessional, you should know better than to declare the QQ Scenario. And you deserve everything you get (including a fiery demise) should you ever utter that phrase within earshot of your cohorts. Anyone who is in 'the business' who causally throws that down is obviously a danger to themselves and others.

What you're really saying when you say Quick Question is "I want a quick answer". Wny else would you say that? Those two words used to start any interrogative discourse is a simple statement of how long it will take to ask the question in question. Anyone who does that intentionally is just plain dumb. Imagine doing that for everything.
"Short greeting: Hey Bingo."
"Grudgingly Polite response: Morning Chuckles, how was poker last night."
Yeah nogunnahappen.
So what you're unknowingly doing is using a euphemism you've heard before to help try to create the desired outcome, disguising the true nature of your inquiry.
Having the forethought to contemplate what your question actually is, realize how complicated the answer might be, and use the opportunity to set the expectation of the recipient accordingly is obviously too much to ask for. By falling onto the cliche that requires much less self-awareness or introspective vocabulary analysis, you're just confirming that you don't think about what you're saying.
"Quick Question"
Fuck You.

Idiot's guide to the economy collapse

Fallout from a faltering economy perhaps. Manufacturing quality slips a bit. Goods you used to rely on now cost a little more and have a tendency to be a little shoddier than you're used to.
You must have felt it too. It's the kind of problem we're all facing every day.
I'm talking about the bread I buy at the grocery store. It's fucked.
This is the good bread. The shit you pay $4.00 for now that used to cost $2.50 before the stock market took a high-dive belly flop. The 'premium' shit marketed with every variety of 9-12-18 grain, whole wheat, honey wheat, butter milk, potato, dark rye, farking anything they'll throw in a pre-packaged bag and call good stuff.
There's a pattern lately. Everything looks fine at first, working through the useless undersized pieces near the heel. Those are there to fool you. Once you start getting into the uniform slices you can actually make a goddamn sandwich with, you start to see them.
The holes.
Little bubbles just a bit bigger than the regular texture on the expensive-ass bread. Not big enough to be a problem. Just like it's sprouted little empty eyes trying to see just what the fuck you're defiling it with every time you concoct a brie-bologna-arugula masterpiece. By about 1/3rd into the tar-baby you've got some real shit on your hands. Dime-sized gaps waiting to fuck up your lunch with a handful of mayo squeezing through one of these puss-holes when you land your first starving bite.
I wouldn't complain if it hadn't been like the LAST FIVE GODDAMN LOAVES IN A ROW that ope their crusty lips like the sex doll I left deflated in the closet a few roommates back. I've switched brands, stores, you name it. This swiss-cheese bread phenomenon follows me no matter where I go. One loaf I had ended up with air-bubbles the size of uncut green-beans, rendering 50% of my freakin expensive bread almost completely useless.
Thanks asshole Quality Control guys at the premium bread factory. I'm about ready to give in and just buy the white squares of nutritionless cardboard that my folks grew up on. At least I know I can spread some goddamn peanut-butter on it without puking any back at me mid-breakfast on Monday-fucking-morning.