suffer a coronary.
“It’s for your protection sir,” I inform him kindly.
“I DO NOT WANT THE EXTRA PROTECTION!”
“I’m so sorry sir, but if you want to use our service, then you don’t have a choice,” I say in my most apologetic voice.
“FINE THEN! I’LL JUST ANSWER ‘DON’T KNOW’ FOR EVERY SINGLE QUESTION!”
Click!
I was about to inform him that if he enters the same answer more than once, our system will reject it. But he didn’t give me a chance. Oh well, he’ll just have to discover that on his own.
Or, he’ll be calling us back.
After taking more than a hundred Security Questions-related calls, I am frazzled to bits.
I hate Security Questions as much as the callers do.
And I hate this job.
Midway through assisting another caller with, you guessed it—her Security Questions, I hear the high pitched, screeching noise of the fire alarm going off.
YESSSSSSS!!! IT’S A FIRE DRILL!!!
“I’m sorry ma’am, but you’ll have to call back in about an hour ‘cause the fire alarm just went off,” I say with a big, fat smile on my face and promptly jam the Log Out button.
I scan the floor for my buddies. But they’re nowhere in sight.
Hmm. They must have already bolted.
Traipsing happily toward the exit stairwell, I merge into the mass exodus.
Karsynn is sitting on a patch of brown grass, basking in the sunlight. “Isn’t this great?” she trills.
“Sure is,” I enthuse, watching a fire truck swing by the curb.
Minutes later, Truong, Mika, Ingeborg and Archie join us on our private oasis, and for the next fifty-five minutes, we lounge under an azure blue sky, enjoying fresh air and good company.
“I sure wish we had fire drills every day,” I murmur lazily, glorifying in the feel of the sun on my cheeks, its lulling warmth making my eyelids drowsy.
Truong sticks a blade of grass in his mouth. “My wish is for that building to burn down to the ground.” He quickly adds, “When nobody is inside it, of course. Now wouldn’t that be nice?”
Everyone echoes his sentiments.
Sigh. I guess you know you really hate your job when you’re wishing for disaster and destruction to strike just so you don’t have to go into work.
Beep!
“Thanks for calling Lightning Speed Communications, this is Maddy. How can I assist?”
“I need help with QuickBooks,” demands the caller. “I can’t get QuickBooks to connect to the internet.”
I probe for more, “Can you connect to any websites when you use your browser?”
“Yes.” His voice is laced with irritation.
“In that case, it’s a QuickBooks issue. The QuickBooks.exe file is blocked from accessing the internet, so you’ll need to contact Intuit or QuickBooks for support. Or it could very well be your firewall blocking you, in which case you’ll need to contact Norton or McAfee.”
“I don’t mean to take it out on you but I DID NOT EXPECT TO BE TRANSFERRED ALL OVER THE PLACE FOR HALF A FOCKIN HOUR JUST SO YOU CAN TELL ME THIS! THIS IS COMPLETE BULLSHIT!”
Now why do you say that you don’t mean to take it out on me? Why? What for? You say that, and then you turn around and take a mega shit on me.
“I’m so sorry sir, but QuickBooks is a third party software which we do not support. As much as I’d like to help you, I can’t; so you’ll need to contact QuickBooks directly.”
“THANKS FOR NOTHING!” he blasts.
“Um, before you go sir, is it okay if I mention a product or a service that may be beneficial to you?” I ask meekly; my voice is strangled to say the least.
But I have to say the dreaded TSR script. Otherwise, I’ll be on a formal warning if the KGB spies are listening.
I hold my breath. I can hear his heavy breathing on the line.
“WHATEVER!” he barks.
“Um, is that a Yes or is that a No?” I swallow hard.
“Let me get this straight young lady. You haven’t even helped me with my issue, and here you’re trying to sell me something? ARE YOU TRYING TO ANTAGONIZE ME?”
“Yes, um, I mean n-no,” I stammer. “What I’m trying to say is yes, I am trying to sell you something but no, I’m not trying to antagonize you. But if I don’t read you the sales script, and if I don’t probe you for more when your answer is ‘whatever,’ then I’ll be docked down by Quality Assurance if this call is monitored.”
He goes ape shit. “THAT IS THE STUPIDEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD. TELL YOUR QUALITY ASSURANCE PEOPLE TO GO FUCK THEMSELVES!”
“Sir...I…err, can