Confessions of a Call Center Gal - By Lisa Lim Page 0,39
rolls her tongue.
“Um, can’t you see I’m busy?” I apply a first coat. “So, are you nervous about the surgery?”
“A little.” She abandons the salsa dancing and bounces on the bed. “Now, do you want to know what the best part is?”
“What?” I carefully apply Black Cherry Chutney on my pinky toenail.
“Losing weight!” she exclaims brightly. “I’ll be on this all-liquid diet for the next six weeks since my jaw will be wired shut. Girrrl, you’ll see me shed some major pounds. The fat will just melt off my body!”
I’m glad Kars is taking this in stride. Although I’m slightly nervous about her impending surgery, I don’t share any of my concerns with her. She’ll be going to hell and back and I need to keep her spirits up.
“Maybe I’ll go on the liquid diet to keep you company,” I hear myself saying.
“You’re such a doll,” she cries with delight. “Maddy, we are going to turn into some skinny bitches!”
Half-laughing, I raise an imaginary wine glass. “Here’s to us becoming skinny bitches.”
“To skinny bitches!” Karsynn echoes, beaming at me.
Ten
Beep!
“Thanks for calling Lightning Speed Communications, this is Maddy. How can I help?”
“I WANT TO KNOW WHY THE HELL MY PASSWORD IS NOT WORKING. YOUR SITE TELLS ME I’M LOCKED OUT! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?”
“Okay sir, I can help with that. Let me just verify you first.”
“FINE!” He makes a guttural sound of protest.
I flinch and run through the painful process of verifying the beast. Then I pull up the ‘Crystal Ball’ app which tracks our callers’ log in attempts. It’s a pretty nifty tool; it gives me the precise date and time that a caller logs in, along with his city, state, country and IP address.
I type the caller’s info into my gypsy app and wait.
Seconds later, the Crystal Ball tells me that a mustachioed gigolo will come into my life. Mwahahaha. Okay, back to business.
Apparently, the caller used the wrong password.
Several times actually.
It is crystal clear. The Ball does not lie.
“Sir, according to our records, the incorrect password was entered three times. So that’s why your password is suspended. All you need to do is—”
I DID NOT ENTER THE WRONG PASSWORD!”
“Well sir, it’s quite possible that someone else could’ve entered the wrong password. Have you, by chance, shared your log in info with anyone?”
“NO ONE ELSE HAS MY INFO!”
“Have you responded to any phishing attempts? Perhaps you have a virus on your computer.”
He barks, “I DO NOT HAVE A VIRUS!”
I’m compelled to say, “Sir, you may not have a virus, but your computer may.” But of course I don’t. Instead I say, “Well, if no one else has your info and your computer is clean, then...” I pause and continue with some hesitation, “Um, then I’m afraid it was probably you that entered the wrong password.”
He draws in his breath with a loud hiss. “I said it wasn’t me. Are you calling me a liar?” His tone is threatening.
“Err, no…” I say feebly, even though I want to yell, “YES! YOU’RE A LIAR! I HAVE PROOF THAT YOU ENTERED THE INCORRECT PASSWORD THREE TIMES. THE HITS ON OUR SERVER MATCH YOUR IP ADDRESS!”
“So, if I did NOT enter the wrong password, then EXPLAIN WHY I AM LOCKED OUT!”
“It’s quite possible that your password got corrupted,” I bullshit.
“Corrupted?” he guffaws.
“Yes,” I inform him in a tone that is so convincing that even I, myself, am convinced. “Corrupted,” I repeat, unwavering.
As call center tradition goes, the customer is always right. It has been drilled into my fat head. Thus, it is imperative that I bullshit. If all else fails, always blame the tool, but never, ever blame the carpenter.
Hah! Too late for me; I’ve already made the fatal mistake of blaming the crazed carpenter.
“HOW CAN MY PASSWORD BE CORRUPTED?” he erupts once again.
Jeez, take a chill pill dude. It’s only a password.
I continue bullshitting my way out of this since he leaves me no other option. “Well sir, think of it this way—your password is like a car. Your car will not run smoothly forever. There are times when your car will break down and simply refuse to start. Likewise with your password, there are times when your password will become corrupted and refuse to work,” I expostulate, surprising myself at my ability to produce fantastic amounts of BS that make perfect sense.
Click!
D’oh! He’ll just have to call back to reset his password.
Feeling sorry for his next victim, I promptly log off my phone.