Please Press 1
You've been waiting on hold now for – I check my timer – forty minutes.
Sure, you got the message when you called in that said we were experiencing higher than normal call volumes, but everybody gets that. Turns out, most people will hang up, and that's just what the big bosses want. The more you go away, the more you don't question what we're doing because you're too impatient to wait, and the more we can gouge you.
“Past services” is what they call them, features you pay for that you really shouldn't anymore, because, hell, we don't even offer them. You don't know that, of course, because you just pay you bill every month like a drone, never asking why, never asking “how come I'm being charged such-and-such?”
Of course, not everyone's like you. Some of them check their bills very carefully, but we do our best to make sure that they never get through, that the line is always so long that it's not worth their time to keep holding. A few do make it through; a few even have the will to deal with our best agents, and you know what – they end up with a real sweet deal.
For you, though, I'm waiting another ten minutes.
I've already got your account on-screen when you start talking, but I act like I have no clue, getting you to go through a mindless set of queries that “prove” who you are. Technology is sophisticated enough now that I knew who you were as soon as you dialed our number, but the higher-ups don't want me telling you that, and I have no intention of giving away their secrets. I like my job; I like making people unhappy.
What most slobs out there don't realize is that unhappiness is actually our natural state of being as humans. Sure, we talk big about “being happy” and about finding “what we love”, but we spend so much of our time lamenting what we don't have and feeling sorry for ourselves that even mediocre events in our life seem life joyful occasions. I'm ahead of the game – I know that life sucks, and I'm here to make sure you know it sucks too.
Once you've rattled off all of the information I supposedly need, I ask you to do it again because of a “computer error”. It's a lie, of course, and I enjoy hearing the slight catch in your voice as you fight to stay calm. At this point, if you lose it on me, I'll act offended and put out, and chances are that you'll apologize to me even though I'm the one with bad behavior. If you really go crazy and ask for my supervisor, you'll get me again, just with a fake British accent. I tried Russian for a while, but it didn't have the same gravitas, I found, and didn't give me the reactions I was looking for.
Now that you've gotten past the first hurdle, I ask how I can help, hiding a smile behind my hand as if you can see me. We're not quiet at the point where we can see you yet, but rest assured there's going to be a point when I'll be able to watch you sitting there in your underwear, picking your nose, and the video is going to get uploaded to a social media website as quickly as I can manage.
You tell me about the problem you're having, but I don't really listen – it doesn't matter because I have no intention of solving it. After putting you on hold again while I “look up some information”, I tell you that you are, in fact, in arrears and owe us at least twelve dollars on your last bill. You bluster and argue, but I say that until the matter is resolved, there's nothing I can do to help you. I wait while you go pay the amount I've indicated online – half of that money goes directly to me as a bonus, and the other half to the company. I make a killing at what I do, far better than most my age. It requires a certain ruthlessness, but that's something the company is more than willing to help me learn.
Now that you've paid me off, I tell you I can “probably” do something for you, and that I'll “check it out”. Hold comes up again while I play a round of solitaire on my computer, and then I tell you that I'll have to transfer you to our customer specialist line, who will be able to better serve you. What I don't mention is that the line doesn’t actually exist, and that you won't be going anywhere. This is one of my favorite tactics, but one I try to use sparingly. You're upset enough already that I think it will really set you off, so I'm hopeful about your reaction.
I let the line go dead for a while, then make a clicking sound, pinch my nose and say. “For service in English, please press one.” You press, and I wait a few seconds.
“Thank you for calling commercial billing and hardwire support. If you know your business contractor number, enter it now.” You begin cursing on the other end of the phone, and I know you're mashing zero, just hoping to get a real person.
“We're sorry, that is an invalid selection. Thank you for your continued patronage.” I let the moments drag on before I hang up, reveling in the string of foulness that comes boiling out of you. Finally, I slam the receiver down, satisfied.
I make sure to take a copy of the recording I've made home with me, you know, the one for “quality assurance and customer satisfaction” to put with the other triumphs I've engineered. Sure, our new corporate face my be friendly, and you may actually get to talk to a real person, but here's the truth: I feed on your tears.
Please, press one.
- D
No comments:
Post a Comment