Speaking from the standpoint of someone who deals with YOU (namely, the customer) everysinglefuckingday and has for the last 10 years or more, I can tell you a few things about yourself. Allow me to amaze and bedazzle you.
1. Your issue isn’t special. Whatever it is, I can promise you I’ve seen it 100 times before…probably this week alone. Quit acting like you are the only one on the block who owns footie pajamas (and still wears them).
2. You called ME. This should preclude questions such as, “Is this a secure line?” and “How do I know you’re who you say you are?” Do I have a thick, incomprehensible accent? No. Give me your damn information so we can get started.
3. You may not know me personally from Adam or who the hell ever when you get me on the line, but I work for YOU, not whatever company I represent. You make up the company, and without you there is NO COMPANY. I want YOU to be happy. I am not going to “screw” you, nor am I going to write down your sensitive information and take it home with me to do God knows what with it. So…don’t sass me, ma’am.
4. When I put you on hold or step away from my desk, I am not off tapping a kegger or whatever it is you think I’m doing. I’m fixing your shit. Be patient while I do this, because…
5. YOU PROBABLY SCREWED THIS UP IN THE FIRST PLACE!!! Nine times out of ten, no matter what company I’ve worked for, it’s YOUR FAULT!! You didn’t read this. You didn’t do that. You forgot or blah blah blah…well, too bad about the excuse. Listen to my heavy-handed lecture, take my advice, here’s your damn whatever back the way it’s supposed to be and have a nice day. And PLEASE make sure to do that last one…so maybe you can talk some sense into the person coming in while you’re headed out.
I don’t speak for all customer service reps, though. I overheard a conversation between two of my ex-coworkers that went a bit something like this:
Rep 1: “Dude, did you hear what I did to that little old lady?”
Rep 2: “Was that the one with the brand new phone?”
Rep 1: “Yeah, dude…it was over as soon as she gave me her card number. I charged her $100 for the phone, and then the system nailed her twice for the monthly service fee. It was awesome…I didn’t say anything to D. (the manager)”
Rep 2: “Won’t you get caught?”
Rep 1: “Naw, dude…I deleted the card out of the system after the transaction happened…no evidence.”
Rep 2: “Whoa…how do you do that…?”
…and so on. Now, if you were to ask me which company this was that I worked for, I would give you a suitably “Fight Club” answer (that answer being, “A major one”). The problem lies in the fact that it’s impossible to keep these people motivated and excited about their jobs when they’re paid minimum wage and have no hope for advancement. Do you honestly think that the 19-year old pimply face girl handing you your burgers this evening has any job satisfaction at all? How can she? And do you expect her to? And how upset do you get when your order is wrong? And do you ever stop and think that YOU and your H3 and your cell phone bill and your $1, 24 oz soda and your fur-lined steering wheel might have caused all of this?
You don’t. I know you don’t, because I don’t. But we need to start. And we need to start soon…or we’re all gonna go batshit crazy in here.
I have to call up my cable provider and scream at them now…for half an hour. Maybe I can make the girl who answers and is making $10 an hour hate her life a little bit more.
Get my point now? Live and let live, folks. J Live and let live.
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