Tuesday, May 25, 2004

Frankly, My Dear...

I got through my first ten hours with the mouth breathers and I didn't kill anyone. Not that I didn't desire with my whole being to possess the ability to blow someone to smithereens by mere power of suggestion.

I had forgotten how miserable the general public can be. As I said before I am in what is called internal. What that means is I get all the people who call all the numbers associated with Undisclosed Customer Service Center� (and there are many). There are numbers for professionals, there are numbers for broadband users, there are numbers to call if you have a virus, etc.

Pretty simple, you call the right number you get the right department. But of course if your knuckles are swollen from dragging on the ground you may hit the wrong option on the phone. That is where I come in. I get all the turnips who can�t seem to work the phone.

I understand if you can�t work a simple touch tone phone, you probably can�t grasp the concept of paying for support, or that maybe you are not the only one in the free world who has the virus, so yes, there may be a wait for support.

I lost it with one guy, he was bitching about paying for support on a version of software that was two versions behind the current one. �I�m a customer and this is not good customer service.�

You were a customer, you haven't bought anything in 5 years. �Well when you consider the cost of training a technician, paying him a salary, not to mention the trainer, then paying their salary as a tech as well as customer service agents to field the calls, and all the other managerial staff that it takes to run a center, add phone charges and internet usage and on and on, your $35 really doesn�t cover it, and if you never buy new software? Then what?� We should keep technicians on staff for old software on the off chance that this asshole calls in?

After dealing with these people for hours on end I got this lady that just tickled me pink. I was starting to get a little punchy.

�Thank you for calling the Undisclosed Customer Service Center�, my name is Evel, may I have your name please.�

�Vivian Leigh�, I was silent for a beat, but couldn�t control a giggle.

�No way� I said.

She giggled, �Afraid so.�

�Well fiddle-dee-dee, Vivian, how can I help you today.� That put us both in hysterics. She was quite upset that she had been dealing with the virus for a week and B.es.t B.uy told her it would cost her $100 to have them get rid of it. I told her that was ridiculous. She couldn�t believe that I was going to help her for free. She thought there might be a catch.

�As God is my witness, its totally free.� This set us both off, we were in tears, as I got ready to transfer her she said, �Thanks, I needed that.�

�So did I.�

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