No matter where you are in the United States, and no matter what you do in costumer service, you can always relate to stereotypes. Most, not all people, fall into the stereotypes. I talk to people all over the United States and Canada, so I’ve learned a thing or two.
Mornings are the worst time to talk to someone over the phone from the East Coast. You have the pleasure of meeting Dolores, who sounded like she had one too many martini’s the night before and smoked since she was the ripe old age of six. To make matters worse, she wants to know why something wasn’t done yesterday, when she just placed in the request today. She’s on her fourth cup of coffee, and it’s only 9 in the morning. Not only do you have a woman who’s smoked since she was six, but she’s recovering from last night’s hangover, with the lethal injection of strong office coffee, which, she’s positive no one has changed the filter and this cup is more gritty then the last.
This is your first call of the day.
The next call, is a guy named Bill, who’s done this job for the last thirty years, and knows your supervisor’s first name. Like, this is a scare tactic that is going to make you think twice for negating his proposition. Nice try, Bill. Bill, also states he’s the best client your company has, and inflates his status quo by saying he was in the Wall Street Journal for doing what he does best. As if that impresses you. Great, they have a dot matrix picture of themselves. After denying his first proposal, he requests to speak to a supervisor. In this time, he forgets the name of your supervisor, and interjects he wants to speak to “a” supervisor. After another ten minutes of you playing messenger, he gives up, only to call again and get your neighbor.
We’re just getting warmed up.
The next call, is from someone in Canada. Anna Lee is French, Canadian, and Asian, and speaks 50 miles a minute, and asks for five consecutive things at once. To her, this is multi-tasking. As you are fulfilling her request, she asks a money question. This question has to do something with money, and the first answer you give her, is not good enough. So, she asks it again. You tell her, the same answer. She asks again, with the interjection of how the first project she gave you, is going. Trying to fulfil her request, plus trying to answer her question, yet, again, is still not good enough. So, one must take the moment to stop what they are doing, and grab the nearest stress ball that hasn’t broken under any extreme pressure yet. Its difficult to break the foam rubber balls, but not impossible. And never get the sand filled stress balls. It’s true with what they say about sand reaching the most undesirable places. After the third time, of repeating your answer, you decide to do a different tactic. Lets tell Anne the right answer, but in a different way. Halfway in getting your three worded answer out, she interrupts you and asks how the first task she gave you is going. You try again, this time, your voice is an octave higher, and trying to sound, more convincing. Then she asks those magic words, “Are you sure?” This is where the mute button better be large enough for you to find and push, and you better pray no one is within ear shot to hear the explicative that funnel out of your mouth.
When the call is finally over, it’s your first break.
And that’s just the morning!
After you come back from break, you find a few messages in your inbox, of policies that have changed, new interdisciplinary actions to keep everyone in check. Hazing is the polite version of this. That costumer you had over a month ago, is coming back to haunt you and asking you to recall their conversation. On top of that, you’re having to explain, and PROVE, that the policy has not changed, and you’ve had the same policy for the past year.
In five more minutes, it’s your lunch time.
Then, you get that call.
The call that is meant to happen, when your blood sugar is at it’s lowest, the connection is not bad enough for them to hang up and try again, but just bad enough it gets on your nerves, and the costumer that is deciding to take her good old sweet time. Tanya, from Georgia. She reaches you, butters you up by saying she is so happy to talk to you again, and asks to place you on hold. Three minutes goes by, and she pops up on the phone again. Such a buttery sweet personality, she asks you one question, and after you find the answer for it, she asks to put you on hold again. Another four minutes goes by to listening to music most jazz stations have rejected, she comes back on the line. Another question, and you diligently find the answer to this one. After nothing short of a high-school research paper of an answer, she puts you on hold again, this time, not asking for permission. Two more minutes go by, and the hardened gum underneath your neighbors desk is starting to look appetizing. Before you know it, the neighbor beside you, who came in an hour after you did, is going to lunch. Listening to Jazz station reject music, admiring the possible calories the hardened gum may hold, Tanya, pops in again. This time, you’ve about had it. You want to ask if she could call back, but your luck, you’re being monitored. You want to “accidentally” kick out the phone cord, and blame the “oo, my bad, my foot was clumsy, move,” but you know this person has your extension, and she WILL get you back. She’s either found a loop hole in the system to waste the company’s time and money, or she’s just a natural born airhead. Five more minutes goes by, and you’ve been on the call so long, you’re hearing the hold music replay itself. Tanya, FINALLY returns, and you find out, you’re not able to help her after all. After a breif, pleasant, and relieved good-bye, you log out before she has an after thought of calling you back.
Time to clock out for lunch!
You find a spot, park it, and divulge in what your morning has been so far. You find out, you aren’t alone in this whole maddening scheme of things. Either people have had the same costumers, or its some sort of strange astrological reasoning for everything to be so difficult, and the people for being so extreme.
After lunch, you have three new messages. Two of them, are from other agents who were just talking to Tanya and was asking if she could be transferred to you. One message is from a nauseating co-worker who wants to exchange off days with you, this week. This is the week you are getting your tires rotated and you’re going to the movies to see something you’ve waited 17 years to come out. There is no way, you are exchanging days with them. But, you know if you don’t exchange days with them, they are going to send you another email, asking you to do the same thing, ingnoring your first response, like they never recieved it in the first place. Then they are going to give you uncomfortable looks and stares for the rest of the week, because, you refused to switch your off days with them, on such short notice.
Halfway through the day, your tired, irratiable, and thinking you should have retreated to your car for a nap. Caffienne has been taken beyond the killing the horse stage, and you no longer having that “Happy hyper” feeling you’ve had since this morning. The worst thing about it is, you spilled part of your lunch on your new shirt, and you stepped on something smooshy in the bathroom.
Is it time to go home yet?
Welcome to the endless Monday.
