Confessions of a Call Center Gal - By Lisa Lim Page 0,57

‘cult’ reference.

I shot Kars a quelling look, but she bungled on, “Do you have any ugly Christmas sweaters we can borrow?”

Dottie placed one hand over her bosom and bristled crossly, “I happen to love my Snuggie. And young lady, if a sweater looked ugly to me, I would never buy it.”

I immediately jumped in, attempting to defuse the situation. “Dottie, pay no attention to Kars. That Snuggie looks so cute on you. You err...look like you’re in a church choir. And I’m sure nothing you own is ugly, but would you happen to have any festive holiday sweaters we could borrow?” I beamed beatifically.

“Why of course I do, sugar,” cooed Dottie, her ruffled feathers soothed. “Upsy daisy, here I go.” She struggled to her feet. “Stay right here girls. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

When Dottie was out of earshot, I raised my chin at Kars and said smugly, “See! That’s how it’s done!”

And that’s how we scored our ugly Christmas sweaters, the ones we’re proudly sporting right this very minute.

Still a bit shell-shocked, Mika looks like he has no idea what to make out of our Christmas montage of holiday hideousness.

“Mika, you be the judge. Who has the uglier sweater, me or Kars?” I strike a pretty pose in my garish cable knit sweater, featuring a purplish Santa of questionable ethnicity.

Hmm, maybe he is more of a mulberry magenta.

Not to be outdone, Karsynn’s sweater actually plays music. If you squeeze Rudolph’s nose hard enough, it lights up and plays a garbled tune, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer of course, and it probably sounds garbled from being thrown in the washer one time too many.

To showcase her sweater, Kars honks Rudolph’s nose a few times for good measure.

Mika doubles over. “I’ll have to go with Karsynn’s.”

It has been almost an hour now, and I have yet to receive a call; that is the beauty of working during the holidays—most people think we’re closed! And anyone who does call in on Christmas day is a friggin’ Scrooge.

Beep!

Speak of the devil.

“Thanks for calling—” I pause in my semi-drunk state, trying hard to remember what I should be saying. Oh yes! “Lightning Speed Communications. Now how can I help you this Christmas day?” I slur sentimentally.

“I need you to update my billing address,” says the caller.

“Oh-kay.” I hiccup. “I can help with that. Let me just ask you a few questions to verify you.”

After the caller has passed verification, I ask blearily, “Um… what did you say you needed help with again?”

“Updating my address,” he says patiently.

“Right,” I say fuzzily.

Jeez louise, Maddy. Pace yourself and pull yourself together! You’ve only had some wine. Although, I think it was the comedian Jo Koy who once said that wine is real classy...until you drink a few bottles, then it’s just booze.

Right. Focus. Everything is a blur.

I squint, hunting and pecking at my keyboard while he rattles off his new address. Midway through the call, his voice falters and cracks. Seconds later, I hear a muffled sob of despair.

“Um…are you okay sir?” I ask tentatively.

“Sorry to call you today, but-but I just feel so alone. My wife just left me and she took the kids. Sobs. And I just lost my job. Sniffles. And I know it’s only a matter of time before my home’s foreclosed on,” he wails piteously.

“Oh no,” I say empathically. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Then I run out of things to say. Bugger! I have no idea how to comfort him. Meanwhile, he’s having a good cry over the phone. An infinite sadness tugs at my heart. I even feel a bit tearful. It hurts to hear a grown man weep.

“Sir, why don’t I give you two months of service—for free!” I exclaim in hopes of cheering him up. ‘Tis the season of giving, and it is the only thing I can give him right now.

“O-okay,” he stammers. “I just really appreciate you being there to take my call.”

“Well that’s what I am here for sir. Now you can talk all you want. I am listening,” I say with a tenderness that surprises me.

He proceeds to tell me his whole life story.

When the call ends two hours later, I feel so utterly down and depressed. To liven things up, I start giving all my callers two months of free service, and it feels so good to give. I feel a thrill compounded by kindness and generosity, at the thought that I could be helping someone out in some small way, that