I've been reading too much customers_suck
SCENE: A CALL CENTRE. COULD BE ANY CALL CENTRE ANYWHERE. FOUR OPERATORS ARE SITTING AT DESKS, ALREADY ON CALLS IN A GROUP OF SIX DESKS. THERE ARE THREE DESKS ON EACH SIDE, THE BACKS FACING EACH OTHER, SEPARATED ONLY BY A DIVIDER ABOUT A METRE AND A HALF TALL. TWO OPERATORS ARE SITTING ON EACH END OF ONE SIDE, WITH NO OPERATOR IN THE MIDDLE. ON THE OTHER SIDE, ONE IS SITTING IN THE MIDDLE POD AND THE OTHER IS ON THE END.
Lou: Ma’am, you need to stop yelling at me. Ma’am. MA’AM!
Steve: No, sir, I don’t think you’re an idiot. Yes sir, I do understand it happens to the best of people. Of course sir, thank you for calling … and he hung up. Yo, got an ID 10 T. (Steve yawns and stretches, scratches his head)
Judy is sitting on the other side of Steve. She peers over the divider, gives him a look and a shrug. He smirks and gets up from the pod, ambles over to the drinks fountain and pours himself a drink, ignoring the call coming in on his line. He gulps down his drink and ambles past the pods to open the main door.
Judy takes the call.
Judy: Thank you for calling Fisher Corporation. How can I help you?
CALLER: Yeah, youse guys are stealing my fucking money! Give me my money back.
Judy: Can I have your name please sir?
CALLER: No, you can’t have my fucking name! I want my money back.
Judy: Sir, I can’t help you unless I can see what you’re talking about. I can’t even consider a refund unless I can access your information.
CALLER: I don’t care! I know what you corporate types are like. You’ll take my name and my address and sell it to those computer hackers, or the government and they’ll rip me off some more. Why don’t you just take my gonads and rip those off too. (Rant, rage, general psycho talk)
Judy’s eyes move heavenward. Suddenly the theme from Psycho can be heard. She sees a man-shaped shadow wielding a knife in one hand. The knife ‘stabs’ in rapid up and down motions for several beats until …
Judy’s chair is bumped by Lou, who has moved her chair from her pod at the end of the row to the other.
Lou: Did you hear the news about Mickey?
Judy (frowns): No. What?
Lou: So he was doing the grave shift on Saturday, right? And you know he’s supposed to be taking calls, but get this, he goes out partying. Like down at the Hog.
Judy: The Hog? That place is a craphole.
Lou: Yeah, I know (rolling eyes). But that’s not the story.
Judy: So … (Another call comes in. Judy rolls her eyes at Lou and picks up the call) Thank you for calling Fisher Corporation. How can I help you?
CALLER: What are your store hours?
Judy: Which one, ma’am? We have 50 stores located throughout the country. You’ve come through to the call centre.
CALLER: Oh (giggle). Silly me. (Judy rolls eyes again). The one on Lambton Quay.
Judy: (Looking up info on computer) It’s open from 9am to 5.30pm weekdays, 9am to 5pm on Saturdays and 10am to 4pm on Sundays ma’am.
CALLER: Oh, thank you. You don’t happen to know if they have any specials? I’m on a very tight budget, you see, but I love the store.
Meantime another call has come through and Lou has taken it. Judy can’t hear what is being said as the caller is babbling on, telling her life story. Something about her husband dying and she’s on a pension. Judy daydreams once again and all she can hear is the sound of someone talking which is so fast it sounds like a chipmunk babbling and no words can be made out.
Judy: I’m afraid I don’t have that information in front of me, ma’am. The stores are all franchised and each owner has their own special. It would be best if you visit the store and look around.
CALLER: Oh, of course. I’m so sorry to trouble you. Have a wonderful day, dear.
Lou is off her own call by the time Judy hangs up and the calls are silent. Lou returns to her side.
Lou: So, anyway, Mickey’s out partying and calls come through. Well, one of the calls happened to be one of the franchise owners so he calls Dave, who calls Leanne and Mickey gets back three hours later to find them both here looking pissed.
Steve breaks in, having returned from his smoke break. Judy wrinkles her nose as Steve now stinks of cigarette smoke.
Steve: So, they fired him?
Lou: Nope. They can’t.
Judy (looks incredulous) Why not?
Lou: Something to do with his contract. It’s a three strikes system.
Steve: Man, that guy gets away with murder.
Judy: Yeah, tell me about it. I make one little mistake on a call and I get written up. You know what? I bet it’s not about his contract at all. Isn’t he related to one of the owners or something?
Lou: (Shrugs) Wouldn’t surprise me.
Another call comes in but no one wants to pick up. Judy looks at Steve.
Judy: Your turn.
Steve: Why is it my turn?
Judy: Because I’ve taken the last two calls, dumbass. You’re the one who went off on a smoke break. You know you’re supposed to keep to the break times on the roster.
Steve: (smirks) Yeah, well, I don’t care about that. Besides, what are they gonna do? Fire me for smoking?
Lou (rolls her eyes): Smokers get away with murder too. I hate this PC crap. What? We’re supposed to give you a break because it’s an addiction? Puh-leeze. Get a patch.
So, the last bit, it's more a commentary on how in some work places, smokers seem to be able to take as many breaks as they want and seem to get all the gossip.
Anyway, a lot of the stuff I want to put in the play is based on experience. Judy will be a character who imagines various things, sort of like a Walter Mitty in that she either daydreams about what she'd like to do to an annoying customer or like the above examples, what goes through her mind when she gets them. Another idea I have in mind for her is getting an aggravated customer and she hears the theme from Jaws.
On a related topic, I was reminded of an incident that happened at one call centre. There was this colleague I trained who got himself fired. A customer rang up and gave their name as Rachel (not sure if this was the actual name), but they sounded like a guy. So my colleague says something like: that's an unusual name for a guy. Well, the customer told him she was a girl, but he continued to be smart-assed about it, rather than being polite and guessing that the customer was a MTF trans (we had a few where I lived at the time). So the customer (rightly) complained and got him fired. I can't help but think it was totally justified and deserved. I would never have been so rude. I don't know if my colleague was anti or not but he was either that or just so dense that the thought never even occurred to him that she was.
In other news, I applied for a job as a reporter up north. I had the interview on Tuesday and I'm still waiting to hear. Anyway, we were starting to wind up the interview (this was over Skype) when we get this big earthquake. It was 6.2 on the Richter Scale and it was sort of freaky. There was a jolt, then it sort of rolled. It was about 35km deep so we didn't get any damage, although one shop owner told me stuff fell off the shelves. Had it been shallower, we would have been in trouble.
On the job, there are pros and cons. Pros being it's journalism, which I've been trying to get back into for years and it's something I love. Cons being that I would have to move again, there aren't many rentals going and I would have trouble finding a place that would accommodate my cat (and that is not negotiable as I have her for my mental wellbeing), and I didn't really want to move again. But if I got the job I would take it, because I think I can work around things.
Another big pro about it is I could remove myself from a situation that is happening here. My mum is creating some issues. It's not all her fault. I think she has some residual anxiety issues from what happened in July. Just to remind you, she ended up in Wellington Hospital for three weeks with complications from COPD - collapsed lung and surgical emphysema, as well as cysts. She claims she has lost an entire month, which sounds odd. Anyway, she's been rather 'needy' and doing the subtle 'I want you to take me out shopping' without trying to sound like she's demanding. The thing that bothers me is she has to tell every Tom, Dick and Harry about her experience in hospital. She even had to show my sister-in-law the scars. I just don't get it. I do think she's craving attention, but I think she got scared from what happened more than she wants to admit.
I'm trying to get her to go and see someone, maybe get some counselling. But I'm feeling a lot of pressure from her and while some of it is my perception, it does feel like she is using my guilt feelings against me. Yes, she is helping me with my groceries etc, which I can understand. I mean, she doesn't want me to starve. But what gets me is, if I notice something in a shop and I say, oh, that's cute, or nice she will half the time buy it for me. I don't need the stuff but she'll ask me: 'do you want it'? I have a hard time getting her to not buy stuff.
Another thing that bothers me is my brother is complaining about how much money is being spent on the house. Like Mum and stepdad have had a deck put in and an archgola. I get that my brother has a mortgage to pay and kids to feed, clothe, educate etc, but it's pretty rude of him to go on about how much money they're spending as if he thinks he's entitled to a share of the money. I actually told Mum if it's that bad, she could say to him that she is not leaving him anything at all, and the same would go for me. I certainly don't go demanding money. I swear, if I won Lotto, he'd probably have his hand out, and I'm not obligated to give him anything. He's also saying that Mum is rich because they own the house freehold and she's spending all her money on card-making supplies. She only uses her pension, nothing else. So, yeah, pretty rude.
Anyway, that's me. It's turned out to be a beautiful day here so I'm going to go for a walk and get some fresh air.
Leanne
Lou: Ma’am, you need to stop yelling at me. Ma’am. MA’AM!
Steve: No, sir, I don’t think you’re an idiot. Yes sir, I do understand it happens to the best of people. Of course sir, thank you for calling … and he hung up. Yo, got an ID 10 T. (Steve yawns and stretches, scratches his head)
Judy is sitting on the other side of Steve. She peers over the divider, gives him a look and a shrug. He smirks and gets up from the pod, ambles over to the drinks fountain and pours himself a drink, ignoring the call coming in on his line. He gulps down his drink and ambles past the pods to open the main door.
Judy takes the call.
Judy: Thank you for calling Fisher Corporation. How can I help you?
CALLER: Yeah, youse guys are stealing my fucking money! Give me my money back.
Judy: Can I have your name please sir?
CALLER: No, you can’t have my fucking name! I want my money back.
Judy: Sir, I can’t help you unless I can see what you’re talking about. I can’t even consider a refund unless I can access your information.
CALLER: I don’t care! I know what you corporate types are like. You’ll take my name and my address and sell it to those computer hackers, or the government and they’ll rip me off some more. Why don’t you just take my gonads and rip those off too. (Rant, rage, general psycho talk)
Judy’s eyes move heavenward. Suddenly the theme from Psycho can be heard. She sees a man-shaped shadow wielding a knife in one hand. The knife ‘stabs’ in rapid up and down motions for several beats until …
Judy’s chair is bumped by Lou, who has moved her chair from her pod at the end of the row to the other.
Lou: Did you hear the news about Mickey?
Judy (frowns): No. What?
Lou: So he was doing the grave shift on Saturday, right? And you know he’s supposed to be taking calls, but get this, he goes out partying. Like down at the Hog.
Judy: The Hog? That place is a craphole.
Lou: Yeah, I know (rolling eyes). But that’s not the story.
Judy: So … (Another call comes in. Judy rolls her eyes at Lou and picks up the call) Thank you for calling Fisher Corporation. How can I help you?
CALLER: What are your store hours?
Judy: Which one, ma’am? We have 50 stores located throughout the country. You’ve come through to the call centre.
CALLER: Oh (giggle). Silly me. (Judy rolls eyes again). The one on Lambton Quay.
Judy: (Looking up info on computer) It’s open from 9am to 5.30pm weekdays, 9am to 5pm on Saturdays and 10am to 4pm on Sundays ma’am.
CALLER: Oh, thank you. You don’t happen to know if they have any specials? I’m on a very tight budget, you see, but I love the store.
Meantime another call has come through and Lou has taken it. Judy can’t hear what is being said as the caller is babbling on, telling her life story. Something about her husband dying and she’s on a pension. Judy daydreams once again and all she can hear is the sound of someone talking which is so fast it sounds like a chipmunk babbling and no words can be made out.
Judy: I’m afraid I don’t have that information in front of me, ma’am. The stores are all franchised and each owner has their own special. It would be best if you visit the store and look around.
CALLER: Oh, of course. I’m so sorry to trouble you. Have a wonderful day, dear.
Lou is off her own call by the time Judy hangs up and the calls are silent. Lou returns to her side.
Lou: So, anyway, Mickey’s out partying and calls come through. Well, one of the calls happened to be one of the franchise owners so he calls Dave, who calls Leanne and Mickey gets back three hours later to find them both here looking pissed.
Steve breaks in, having returned from his smoke break. Judy wrinkles her nose as Steve now stinks of cigarette smoke.
Steve: So, they fired him?
Lou: Nope. They can’t.
Judy (looks incredulous) Why not?
Lou: Something to do with his contract. It’s a three strikes system.
Steve: Man, that guy gets away with murder.
Judy: Yeah, tell me about it. I make one little mistake on a call and I get written up. You know what? I bet it’s not about his contract at all. Isn’t he related to one of the owners or something?
Lou: (Shrugs) Wouldn’t surprise me.
Another call comes in but no one wants to pick up. Judy looks at Steve.
Judy: Your turn.
Steve: Why is it my turn?
Judy: Because I’ve taken the last two calls, dumbass. You’re the one who went off on a smoke break. You know you’re supposed to keep to the break times on the roster.
Steve: (smirks) Yeah, well, I don’t care about that. Besides, what are they gonna do? Fire me for smoking?
Lou (rolls her eyes): Smokers get away with murder too. I hate this PC crap. What? We’re supposed to give you a break because it’s an addiction? Puh-leeze. Get a patch.
So, the last bit, it's more a commentary on how in some work places, smokers seem to be able to take as many breaks as they want and seem to get all the gossip.
Anyway, a lot of the stuff I want to put in the play is based on experience. Judy will be a character who imagines various things, sort of like a Walter Mitty in that she either daydreams about what she'd like to do to an annoying customer or like the above examples, what goes through her mind when she gets them. Another idea I have in mind for her is getting an aggravated customer and she hears the theme from Jaws.
On a related topic, I was reminded of an incident that happened at one call centre. There was this colleague I trained who got himself fired. A customer rang up and gave their name as Rachel (not sure if this was the actual name), but they sounded like a guy. So my colleague says something like: that's an unusual name for a guy. Well, the customer told him she was a girl, but he continued to be smart-assed about it, rather than being polite and guessing that the customer was a MTF trans (we had a few where I lived at the time). So the customer (rightly) complained and got him fired. I can't help but think it was totally justified and deserved. I would never have been so rude. I don't know if my colleague was anti or not but he was either that or just so dense that the thought never even occurred to him that she was.
In other news, I applied for a job as a reporter up north. I had the interview on Tuesday and I'm still waiting to hear. Anyway, we were starting to wind up the interview (this was over Skype) when we get this big earthquake. It was 6.2 on the Richter Scale and it was sort of freaky. There was a jolt, then it sort of rolled. It was about 35km deep so we didn't get any damage, although one shop owner told me stuff fell off the shelves. Had it been shallower, we would have been in trouble.
On the job, there are pros and cons. Pros being it's journalism, which I've been trying to get back into for years and it's something I love. Cons being that I would have to move again, there aren't many rentals going and I would have trouble finding a place that would accommodate my cat (and that is not negotiable as I have her for my mental wellbeing), and I didn't really want to move again. But if I got the job I would take it, because I think I can work around things.
Another big pro about it is I could remove myself from a situation that is happening here. My mum is creating some issues. It's not all her fault. I think she has some residual anxiety issues from what happened in July. Just to remind you, she ended up in Wellington Hospital for three weeks with complications from COPD - collapsed lung and surgical emphysema, as well as cysts. She claims she has lost an entire month, which sounds odd. Anyway, she's been rather 'needy' and doing the subtle 'I want you to take me out shopping' without trying to sound like she's demanding. The thing that bothers me is she has to tell every Tom, Dick and Harry about her experience in hospital. She even had to show my sister-in-law the scars. I just don't get it. I do think she's craving attention, but I think she got scared from what happened more than she wants to admit.
I'm trying to get her to go and see someone, maybe get some counselling. But I'm feeling a lot of pressure from her and while some of it is my perception, it does feel like she is using my guilt feelings against me. Yes, she is helping me with my groceries etc, which I can understand. I mean, she doesn't want me to starve. But what gets me is, if I notice something in a shop and I say, oh, that's cute, or nice she will half the time buy it for me. I don't need the stuff but she'll ask me: 'do you want it'? I have a hard time getting her to not buy stuff.
Another thing that bothers me is my brother is complaining about how much money is being spent on the house. Like Mum and stepdad have had a deck put in and an archgola. I get that my brother has a mortgage to pay and kids to feed, clothe, educate etc, but it's pretty rude of him to go on about how much money they're spending as if he thinks he's entitled to a share of the money. I actually told Mum if it's that bad, she could say to him that she is not leaving him anything at all, and the same would go for me. I certainly don't go demanding money. I swear, if I won Lotto, he'd probably have his hand out, and I'm not obligated to give him anything. He's also saying that Mum is rich because they own the house freehold and she's spending all her money on card-making supplies. She only uses her pension, nothing else. So, yeah, pretty rude.
Anyway, that's me. It's turned out to be a beautiful day here so I'm going to go for a walk and get some fresh air.
Leanne