Pearoast
For my sins I used to do 2nd/3rd line support for a shitload of councils - until they fired me for blogging and calling a server droid an incompetent fuckwit.

But, working there gave me a lot of interesting stories, a few of which I'll share with you. The first one is Bird Flu.

I'm sure you can all remember the scares about Bird Flu a year or so ago but I bet you've no idea how many mongs used to phone their local council about it. As the calls were recorded I got to listen to some of the more bizarre ones. This is one of my favourites.

Fuckwit: "I'd like to report a case of bird flu"

Op: "Yes sir - can you give me the details"

Fuckwit: "Well I was cleaning out my budgies cage and it sneezed. It's got bird flu. I've put it in the garden and I want someone to come round and take it away."

Op: "Sir - just because your budgie sneezed doesn't mean it's got Bird flu. It just means your budgie sneezed"

Fuckwit: "You don't understand. It's now fallen off it's perch and is lying upside down in it's cage"

OP: "Sir - it's minus five outside. I'm not surprised that it's fallen off it's perch"



Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sat 5 Sep 2009, 2:41, 4 replies)

Evesham Technology
I spent eight months working as a tech support phone monkey for Evesham Technology and having sat through the pitiful induction we were told we would be set a target of 40 calls a day. Having some rudimentary grasp of math I soon worked out this was an average of 11 mins 30 seconds per call. This all works fine when someone sounding like a retired army major calls up... "Err hello, bought this computer from your shop in Bournemouth and we've just got back from holiday and can't work out how to turn it on". I take the serial number and look up the system and sure enough its a case with a big shiny silver switch right in the middle of the fucking front. "See the big silver circle in the middle of the case..."
"Ahh yes thats the blighter, goodbye"...

I remember regularly getting a bollocking for only answering 20-25 calls a day, mainly because I was actually fixing problems. Not fobbing someone off with dropping to the command line and running chkdsk and then saying "this is going to take about (insert suitably long time here), call back when it's finished". But when Cunty Tom is being held as a bastion of productivity for doing 50 calls a day what can you do.

Well you can say "Fuck it" and have a nice chat with a lady whilst her machine is running a 45 minute defrag, only to find out later when you're taken aside and told that you were "taking the piss" that they were auditing calls that day.

During one of our favoured options of going for the "Format reload" to resolve difficult or insurmountable problems we regularly got asked what the "kernel debugger" was. But one woman spotted this item installing and noted "I've never been debuggered, but I've been buggered a few times"...

Wasn't a bad place to work really, the usual cunty practices like having "Tea Break" passes and not being allowed to have a break unless you had a 'pass'. Except when the call queues were busy mysteriously all the passes were 'out' and nobody got a break.

Also having the worst customer database system called FRANK which crashed on a daily basis greeted by cries of "FRANKS gone down again... dirty bastard", the head office being built on swamp land and every summer being infested by swarms of thunderbugs and having the phones on UPS but *not* the computers. So when the power goes you have to answer calls but don't have the luxury of knowing who the customer is or what computer the customer actually owns...

Ironically despite my taking the piss they offered me a new contract which I told them to stuff...
(Trojan Hussar blowing fag ash into your PSU since, Sat 5 Sep 2009, 0:44, 4 replies)

Free money - apply below...
Yes, you can have some free money (and other goodies) if you run a business in rural northwest England. S'true.

I recently did some admin work for the Enterprise Delivery Hub. This is a funding body which was set up to give out grants, loans, help with paperwork etc. to rural businesses.

My job was ringing up businesses and asking for email addresses to send information to.
As I did this I drummed up trade by telling the farmers, B&B landladies and village hairdressers I called about the wonderful goodies on offer.

By week 2 the scheme was swamped with enquiries and I was discreetly moved off the phone.

So, if you run a business in rural northwest England, or know someone who does, google the Enterprise Delivery Hub and get some funding before they run out.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Sat 5 Sep 2009, 0:20, Reply)

Despite all the bad things people say, they keep a sweet old lady warm in Winter
I've just been reminded of my great aunt Elsie McBadger's descent into senility. I wouldn't want to make a comparison between my great aunt's handling of money and those of a certain Hebrew-oriented faith, but for a lass of 97 she can count the change in her wallet according to weight and frequency when shaken.

Back in the early 90's, there weren't many opportunities to be kept up to date on your account balance when bundled up in a care home. As far as Elsie was concerned, every second spent away from your money was a second more time for whatever nutpot conspiracy group to fly into the bank on nazi gold jetpacks so as to steal the cash before roaring off the Bermuda.

Every day, Elsie would grab the phone, call up the local branch, and check that every bit of it was accounted for. Every day. For 3 months. Every day she'd log how much she had, compare it to the day before, and commence the inquisition if so much as a penny was misplaced. After so long, she knew all the staff personally, and really called more for a chat than anything else. They didn't seem to mind, after all.

Well, one day that changed. One of the bills was more than expected, and Elsie ventured off on her crusade to count the coins. When that doesn't add up, she requests to speak to the manager. The new manager. The very same manager who in more polite words tells great aunt Elsie to stop wasting the company's time and resources with these calls or he would have her account blocked.

Well, a compromise is made, and Elsie is set up to get her balance sent to her by post every week. When that isn't enough, arms are twisted for head office to send her a letter twice a week. Every week. For nearly two decades.

So, what does all this have to do with call centres keeping a sweet little old lady going during the savage winter months? Coal for the fire is expensive, and the letters the bank sends are free...

I can only hope I end up like that one day. Tightarsed loon.
(FoxyBadger (try saying it backwards), Fri 4 Sep 2009, 23:59, 3 replies)

Call 76
Me: Good Morning, Shitt and Shitt Company, how may I help you?

Call Centre person: *click* *5 second pause*

Me: *thinks* Oh for FUCKS SAKE, It's 5 to 5. It's Friday, it's CRACKERJACK.

Call Centre Person: Can I please speak to Keith McDougal?

Me: No

Call Centre Person: Can I then please, speak to the person in charge of purchasing of stationary?

Me: No

Call Centre Person: Can I then, take the name of the person who deals with purchasing stationary?

Me: No

Call Centre Person: Can I take your name?

Me: No

Call Centre Person: There's no need to be rude madam, is there anyone there who can help me?

Me: No

Call Centre person: Does your company use stationary?

Me: Look mate, you've said "StationAry" all through this conversation and any cunt knows that you mean "StationEry. Get a fucking clue and call me when you're you're selling non-moving parts."

*door slam*
( my_cat_has_no_shoes meh meh meh MEH MEH, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 23:16, 1 reply)

Pie Digital
Over the years it's been necessary to phone a certain satelite TV company a few times. Most times I've been sat on hold, listening to how 'important' my call is to them and that inexplicably - I managed to call just as everyone else decided to as well.

Personally, "High call volume" is something you solve either by turning down the volume on your handset, or employing more staff.

But... and you're not going to believe this. I'm going to defend those poor Scottish call centre workers, enslaved to Mr. Murdoch.

1. My internet stops working. Then I loose my phone line. After a brief stopover in Delhi - I'm put through to the 3rd line support, located in Belfast. Chatting with the guy, it turns out he's from Dublin (like myself) and we grew up 3 streets away. I got status updates every 30 minutes and BT Openreach were out within 12 hours to fix the problem. Moral of the story - be nice to the call centre guy - they have secret powers.

2. Many years ago, we had to move out of our place in London while the idiots who built place removed and then replaced the tissue thin walls and ceilings. We were moved to a very swanky place up the road (in one of those gated developments) rent free while the whole thing was sorted out (for 6 months!). Meanwhile - the place we moved to didn't have a satelite dish, and we couldn't put one up - so I went without for a few months.
Cue a call centre bloke phoning me up one Saturday morning asking if everything was alright with our box - obviously it hadn't been phoning back to base telling Mr Murdoch how many hours of Simpsons we've been watching. On telling him the whole story of being screwed over by the builders and developers and how we couldn't put up a dish in our temporary home, he refunded 4 months of subscription and placed the account 'on hold' so we wouldn't be billed until we moved back in. Totally out of the blue.

So that's why, if every I have to phone up any call centre (apart from Banks - they're all evil and deserve abuse) I'm always polite, ask how their day has been and make sure if I get good service, to write and praise the person who helped me out.
( HSDriver was probably still at work on, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 22:37, 2 replies)

Gah
I work in an inbound call centre for a large telecommunications company whose name rhymes with ET (and also used ET in some of their adverts way back when). As a quick aside, if any of you are having problems with the company and can't bare to talk to my retarded colleagues, gaz me and I'll try and sort it out as best I can.

Generally I'm pretty good, quick of wit and silver of tongue so most calls are relatively painless. If anyone opens their call by shouting at me I'll work to rule (the Data Protection Act is a fantastic thing to hide behind) but be nice to me and I'll bend over backwards to sort things out for you. It does make me laugh when people try and intimidate me though - they know my first name and the company I work for whereas I know far more about them!

Have a pearoast for now, while I get my stuff together and post some tales.

Customer phones in (as they generally do to call centres)
"Excuse me, do you sell a phone called Aqua?"
*searches on intranet*
"Yup, it's quite nice too."
"Oh good, what's it called?"
"....Aqua."

One of those moments where I feel like I've turned over two pages at once.

Then, later, I had a fellow phone up wanting to do a homemove - move his account to the new property. He interrupted my opening speil and ordered me not to put him on hold or transfer him elsewhere which pissed me off immediately, but I'm a professional (mostly) so gave him one more chance.
"Ok sure no problem sir, may I have your account number please?"
"I don't have my account number. Your colleague earlier found my details through searching for my phone number, use that."
"That may have been alright for just checking details, but to change anything on an account I would need your account number."

We're really hot on customer validation at the moment with one wrong move resulting in a disciplinary. You can generally bend the rules in exceptional circumstances, but I wasn't going to budge for this pillock. We carried on to-ing and fro-ing, with him trying to bully me into relenting (fat chance!) and calling me obstructive. By this time several of my colleagues had muted their customers and were listening in. Then came the crunch:
"Look, you don't wanna mess with me sonny. I know people who are scary you know!"
"You can't threaten me into bending the rules sir. I'm not willing to lose my job over this."
"You'd better watch your back - I know people who ride motorbikes!"
The fool.
"Sir, I am a person who rides a motorbike, and you know what? SO'S MY MOTHER!"

At which he hung up. My mum's not that scary, honest.
(jamesthegill opens new tabs with his scroll wheel, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 22:36, 4 replies)

Latest call- Records Department
Not a great story, but it just happened so...
We got a call from a woman in the Records Department asking for our printer make and model number. We have no Records Department, it was obviously a scam to find out what printer supplies to send us, pretending we'd ordered them. So I took the call and said we'd been waiting a week for the Records Department to get us our TSP report forms, that we needed the forms immediately, and that we'd better have them by the end of the day. She hung up on me.
The caller was just doing her job, but since her job is to defraud I don't mind that she considers me an ass.
(thatguyjoe, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 22:36, Reply)

GREEDY FARMERS
Because I was obviously a paedophile in a previous life and my magnum opus had been the rape of every virgin boy and girl in all of Christendom, I have worked in customer service jobs most of my adult life. My last outing in the employment sector was working as a drone for the government. This was a particular executive subsidiary to DEFRA in deep and darkest Devon that shall remain nameless (this is because I was known as a cunt at this establishment. Two and two might equal a break of the official secrets act and then captaincuntybollocks becomes and personal keyhole, if cocks were keys that is).

Anywho, I would deal with a vast number of farmers (agricultural agents was the politically correct term we were forced to use, at gunpoint) wondering why they have not paid there (OBSCENLY FUCKING HUGE) government subsidies. Call after call, the usual tsunami of peasants and landed gentry calling me a right wing wanker who does not understand there issues, I miss that sometimes (insert blurry lines). The Farmers I represented saw me as scum and not fit enough to be shit on the devils hairy hoof, the feeling was mutually reciprocated. As with many of the posts so far it is obvious that callers/customers do not realise the powers of phone monkey, and goodness me, I had some serious power to fuck up businesses and lives.
AND I DID MUHAHAHAHAHMUHAHAHAHA

Around the time I had decided to quit and fuck off to the other side of the world, my team leader asked me to clear my correspondences from these inbread/illiterate agricultural armadillo’s, the usual crap, you leave and make sure you leave your mess in some sort of order. While rummaging through endless shite the phone rings, something to ease the boredom me thinks, the conversation goes as follows:

Me: Hello, Certain Govertment Executive Agency, Captaincuntybollocks speaking. How can I help?
Farmer: You can start by fucking paying me my (YES DEAR READER, HE SAID MY!!) money.
Me: Can I ask you sir that you do not use any more abusive language as I will disconnect you if you should do so again. Now Sir, can you give me your details.

BLAH, BLAH, BLAH and the conversation continues.

Now from the opening gambit this customer was never going to get my fullest of attention or sympathy and he went onto cry poverty and demanded he was paid in full immediately as his farmer friend (and possible lover/brother/uncle) had already been paid. Therefore, I agreed to look into his claim and call him back at the next opportunity. Being my last week, the lazy part of my brain was telling me to jack it off to the next unlucky former paedophile that should take my place. However, something got up my nose about him and I decided to use all my investigative powers to access the delayed payment.

Therefore, as I donned dear stalker, refilled my pipe, and slipped on my velvet jacket I started looking through three years worth of claims, payments, correspondence and forms from this prick. Believe me when I say this, I had no idea what I was looking for I just wanted to ruin his day somehow and then I struck gold, and by gold I mean beaurocrtaic wizardry. The payment scheme had been running for three years and it was about as organised as narcoleptics darts match. So each year the scheme rules changed ever so slightly to accommodate the needs of the EU and worldwide agricultural issues. Failure to adhere to these rules will, as Arnie might put it in some dodgy pro American eighties action flick while chomping on one of Cuba’s finest, fuck you up. Our friend had fucked up.

The previous year our client was informed by letter, as were all customers, that they had to set aside a small percentage of land and not claim, grow or use any of that set aside land. Why? Fuck Knows. Well, this greedy so and so claimed on all his land and not set aside anything. Joy of fucking joys. Not only would I deliberately put his claim to the back of the que but I could deploy many penalties for being a greedy illiterate bastard.

Our next phone conversation goes something like this:

Me: Hello is that Mr (Greedy cunt) farmer.
Farmer: Yes
Me: This is captaincuntybollocks from that government agency I’m not allowed to mention returning your call.
Farmer: About time
Me: Well I’m afraid it’s not good news Mr farmer. I looked through three years of your claims and it turns out you have tried to claim land that should be set aside. As with all scheme rule changes you were informed by post on (insert date) and then again in your new handbook. You were made aware of the penalties for failing to adhere to these rule changes in your handbook and it is with a heavy heart (bollocks) that I have to apply a 20% reduction to your payments for this year.
BACK OF THE FUCKING NET!!!!!!!

Now I should point that like most call centres our conversations are recorded and it was the unfortunate farmer who fell foul to this as he started to splutter some shite about living on the breadline and etc…. (Note: He was getting over a hundred grand a year in subsidies!). Then a strange calm descended on his voice, almost a post cum calmness, and he tried to offer me a bribe to the tune of 200 quid to forget all about this and process his claim immediately. I informed him that this was not possible and went onto fill him with a pack of lies that his claim will be processed asap. Now, some people would have left it at that and forgot all about the bribe but not me. I had taken too much shite over the previous year from the over paid cunt’s to let this potential satisfying moment pass me by. So I duly informed my line manager about the bribe and gave a written to statement to the effect.

As I was leaving the next week my line manager came and told me that the farmer had lost nearly everything that year due to his little stupid act. There is a moral to this tale and it is politeness. If he was polite, in the first place, I might have overlooked his administration fuck up and just overridden the delay in the payment, but his attitude and the last act of a desperate man, bribery, were his downfall.

Length: About three days of Sherlock esq pipe smoking and investigation.
(CaptainCuntyBollocks the man who can with a frying pan full of lamb, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 22:22, 10 replies)

I work in a shop so not reallllly a call centre...
but I get SO fucked off with this conversation...

*Phone rings*
Me: Good Morning *Company Name* *Town Name* How can I help.
Caller: Oh hello is that *Company name*
Me: Yes.
Caller: In *Town Name*
Me: *to myself* No... No it's the Tamworth branch of Spud-u-like you stupid moron, would you like me to push this potato up your arse.

DAILY I get that call. One day I will confuse them with my rhetoric. Actually off topic but similar, years ago I used to work in a supermarket concession stand cutting keys. By my counter I had a board two metres by two metres with THOUSANDS of key blanks hanging on it and a big sign above saying "Keys Cut Here". One day a middle aged lady walked up to me and said..

Her: "Do you cut keys?"
Me - in total amazement - "No love sorry".
Her: "Oh right... ok", walks off.
Me: I am only joking love which one do you want.

IDIOT.!
(elfinpunk Touching Cloth Since, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 21:59, 5 replies)

I've been stalking
the speaking clock. It's cost me $2000 so far.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 21:18, Reply)

When boredom strikes...
I worked in a Market Research Centre while at University. After a few months of sitting in the same office, repeating the same tedious spiel and phrases it warped our thinking. One depressing evening we hypothesised a Fun Day to raise awareness of Market Research; kids would jump about a bouncy castle shaped like one of our archaic, dusty, spit-flecked, dry-skin ridden computers; there would be a corkscrew shute shaped like a phone chord; grown men would walk around in Pencil and Pen costumes encouraging songs about 'verbatim' and being 'Satisfied' or 'Dissatisfied'; kids would throw keyboard button-shaped paint-bombs at a scale of 1 to 10 and if you missed a vexed man in a shirt and tie with sleeves rolled up would tut wagging a huge index finger at you... We sang the song to each other, adding verses until we had a cohesive structure, even adding a bridge before returning to its oh so jaunty chorus.

This went on and on, sending us into a delerious stupor, a spiralling pit of Market Research depression-soaked giggles.
(BeardyMat, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 20:52, Reply)

One handy way to stop cold calling!
While working in a call center many years ago I found out two things,

1. TPS only applies to commercial interests, i.e. trying to sell you things. If you want to ask questions over the phone for surveying purposes you are free to use an random phone number generator to call any land line number.

2. The work is so mind numbingly boring that we make a point to call people who wind us up/give shitloads of abuse as its the only way to liven up the day.

Forget funny wind ups if you want people to stop calling up to do phone surveys remember this phrase:

"I'm sorry this is a business number"

The law states that telephone surveys can only be conducted to household numbers, business (and call boxes) get blacklisted.
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 20:45, 1 reply)

Calling my car insurance company today:
"I'd like to add breakdown cover to my policy please"

"Certainly Sir, and if you buy today, you will receive a 10% discount"

"Would I receive the discount, say, tomorrow?"

"Yes Sir"

"Aaaaaaand if I buy next week?"

"Yes Sir"

"And if I buy this month?"

"Err... Yes Sir"

"Right then. I'll have it"


/smug
( MatJ LOOK, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 20:21, Reply)

I've served my time in tech support.
You may think phone monkeys are dumb, try dealing with the general public for a living. We keep hold of some of the best customer quotes, for example:

Caller: My "1" key is broken, it keeps putting an exclamation mark
Agent: Are you pressing shift?
Caller: Yes
Agent: Why?
Caller: Because its the beginning of a sentence.
(orukusaki actually fucking posted something for a change, on, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 19:44, 2 replies)

Lazy companies
For work, I've been cold-calling lots of businesses in a certain county to ask them some questions on behalf of the Council (apologies if you're one of them). The other day I rang quite a big airline's UK number. I was given about 6 options. I selected the one for 'admin office' and was told that the entire admin department was closed due to the holiday. It's September now, lazy gits. I was then unceremonially cut off. I phoned again, selected another number, I think for Finance or something, and was taken to 1 person's voicemail. No wonder they never called me back.

Also has anyone else phoned the Royal Mail and met lovely Sarah, the Recorded Voice? It really is going too far to name the inanimate voice.
( lrjlo, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 19:37, 1 reply)

Tales from an ISP Call Center Monkey
This is in response to powervator's excellent story below, which I will duly *click* once I have finished here.

Have you ever called in to your ISP and thought 'gee, if I worked there, with my brilliance in the IT field, maybe my users wouldn't hate company X so much...'?

Well, I have. I lived in my first dorm experience at a private residence hall, and for the first semester, speeds were beyond abysmal. Having attained multiple certifications out of high school (back when I foolishly believed that such were worth more than the roll of Charmin sitting atop my toilet), I proclaimed near and far as to what the reasons were for the speeds that would make a college freshman yearn for sweet sweet dialup.

Spring semester came, and I learned I was wrong. I also learned that I was now employed, and tasked with making sure that the dorm never again had a problem.

I would like to say "And under my unwavering hand, the network ran like Pop-eye deepthroating a field of spinach." Unfortunately, I must instead lead with the following: It is because of this initial employment, and my continued employment with the original ISP's successor, that I have come to a conclusion that will startle each and every one of you: everyone on this planet is dumb as fuck.

I now work in three separate departments for my current employer. I am the technician that goes out to property to work on resident's internet connections, I am the helpdesk monkey that takes calls and arranges appointments for other hapless technicians, and finally, I am a supervisor overseeing all of the above.

I have seen enough stuff to make me weep in frustration as I flagellate a baby pachyderm to release my pent up rage.

My favorite stories are always of the users, god love 'em, because they in most cases can be excused their idiocy... until of course they presume to tell me my job. Then the gloves come off and I unleash a torrent of jargon that would make Geordi stand mouth agape trying to process. I have, in fact, had the following exchange:
Me:"Ma'am, I hate to ask this, but is your cable plugged in?"
Her: [EXASPERATED SIGH] "Yes. It is plugged-"
[audible male "huh" then *CLICK*]
Her: [Embarrassed Noises] "Well, my boyfriend just plugged it back in, it, um, must have gotten disconnected, you know, well,thanksalotforyourhelpbye!"

The stories that make me cringe are tales from other technicians who go into resident apartments and are faced with undeniable proof that some of the most unhygenic slobs known to the face of this earth do not possess a penis, down to floors that are covered in layers of food wrappers, feminine hygiene products, and dirty undergarments. *Visibly* dirty undergarments. *shudder*

And yet, all of that is nothing compared to when I call *my* ISP...

"Thank you for calling Chanter Communicators*, is your modem plugged in?"

DEAR GODS NO!

*name changed to protect the guilty

length? 6 years and counting.
(blinkin the merrily misanthropic IT gremlin, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 19:28, 1 reply)

I rang the Wizards of the Coast call centre
but they put me on hold person.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 19:26, 2 replies)

Recorded message hell
A couple of weeks ago I returned home from work (incidentally, where I had been cold-calling businesses all week) to find that the Internet wasn't working. I didn't care too much but my sister was deeply distressed by not being able to access Facebook for a couple of hours. I ascertained that the problem was with the ISP and after finding nothing on the recorded service message line, I telephoned them. I was greeted with a recorded message asking me to phone them from a number which isn't the landline the broadband connection goes through. I was forced to hang up and dial the 0871 number from my mobile, at a cost to me of 30p/minute.

I spent the next 20 minutes on hold, being assured of the importance of my call, interspersed with helpful reminders that I could read their online help or email them about my internet problem. Something was wrong with the On Hold music however, so I was getting broken snippets of what sounded like a remix of the Captain Pugwash themetune.

The final straw was when the landline rang and I answered it, to be greeted with "Congratulations. You have won a cruise." We're on the telephone preference service. I had a recorded message in each ear and although my initial reaction was to yell every swear word I could think of, it did make me think: we're supposedly the most intelligent species in the universe and have the most advanced powers of communication, and we spend our time listening to fucking awful recorded voices.

I paid £7.40 to my mobile company to be told by a stressed-sounding Indian woman working for an ISP (the first part of whose name rhymes with "piss") that there was a problem with about 40 exchanges in my area which should be fixed in the following couple of days.
( lrjlo, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 19:25, 3 replies)

Sometimes, it pays to listen.
First of all, everything written below is true and is virtually word-for-word a transcript of the conversation. I have changed names for obvious reasons. Apologies in advance for the lack of funneh.

Picture the scene: It's a snowy December's night somewhere north of the Watford Gap. Thanks to a small fuckup involving a patient the size of a whale and my back, I am now on light duties in the ambulance control room. It's coming up to 1am, there's a force 8 gale and blizzard battering the control room.

*BEEP*

UCC: "Ambulance Service"

Operator: "Blackburn connecting phone number 01234567890"

UCC: "Thank you operator. Go ahead caller. What's the address please?"

Caller: "Um..I'm at the junction of Any Street and Thingy Road in Arsetown (insert name of quite scroaty town here.)"

UCC: "OK, I've got that address. What's the problem tonight?"

Caller (sounds like a young lad) "I'm really sorry to bother you, but I didn't know who else to call."

U: That's OK, just tell us what the problem is and we'll get something sorted.

Caller: I'm really really cold. I've been out on the street all day and I'm freezing. I've tried the police and they gave me a number for a hostel but I've got no cash on me and I can't feel my feet now.

U: (clicking through questions) OK, what's your name?

C: It's Luke

U: OK Luke, my name's Carrot. I'm just going to ask a few questions. They're not going to delay us getting any help to you.

C: (starts crying) I'm really sorry. I'm so sorry.

U: Hey, that's OK. Don't worry.

C: I'm just wasting your time, I'm just wasting everyone's time...

U: (I stop typing). Listen Luke, you're not wasting anyone's time. I'm here until 7 in the morning, so you can take as long as you want.

C: Well, I dunno who to talk to or anything.

U: Well you can talk to me.

C: Well....I told my mum at lunch that I'm gay. I've got this boyfriend and he's great and everything so I thought I should tell her because I love him, and I love her.

U: Right...

C: So I told her, and she told me to get out of the house, that she didn't want to know me if I was a fucking fag, and she wasn't having me in her house. So she shoved me out the front door. I got my coat but my wallet and my mobile is still at home.

U: OK...

C: I had a few coins in my pocket so I phoned my boyfriend to hope he'd take me in.

U: Does he live with his parents too?

C: No, he's 32.

U: Right, and how old are you?

C: I'm 17. I'll be 18 next month.

U: OK, so what happened?

C: He just laughed and said I was a stupid cunt, and hung up on me.

U: He hung up on you?

C: Yeah.

U: I see.

C: So then I just wandered town. A nice lady bought me a cup of tea in the cafe, but now everything's closed and I've got nowhere to go. It's my fault. It's my fault for being gay. I shouldn't be gay...(breaks down in tears.)

U: Right Luke, stop right there. There is NOTHING wrong with being gay. Don't let two silly people make you feel otherwise. I'm gay too, and I know exactly how it feels to be on the receiving end of stupid idiots like that. But it worked out for me and it'll work out for you. Now we need to get you sorted out first of all. Do you have any relatives or friends nearby?

C: No, we just moved here from (another town about 20 miles away) so I know nobody apart from my boyfriend.

U: Right, this is what I am going to do. I am going to send an ambulance to you, not on blue lights but they will be with you shortly, OK? They will look after you and get you warmed up.

C: Oh God, what about college? I'm doing my A-levels....

U: Let's not worry about that at the moment. Let's get you sorted first. Can you give me the number of the hostel?

C: Yeah, it's 019876543321

U: OK, I'll get onto them and get that sorted. I'm going to give you my direct number when you get sorted at hospital, so ring me as soon as possible from the hospital, or if that fails, call 999 and ask to speak to Carrot.

C: Thank you. Thank you so much.

U: The ambulance crew should be with you now.

C: Yeah I can see them.

U: OK, I'm going to terminate the call now. Let me know how you get on.

C: Thanks so much. Bye.

U: Bye.


So I went and got the hostel sorted (despite an argument with a stroppy warden about him being under 18). At 6am, I get a phonecall on my direct phone.

U: Ambulance control, Carrot speaking.

C: Hi Carrot, it's Luke.

U: Hi Luke. How are you doing?

C: I'm much better thanks. I've got the nurse with me who wants to have a word.

Nurse: Hello, is that the calltaker?

U: Yes it is.

N: I thought you might like to know - Luke was so cold when we got him here that he was clinically hypothermic. 20 minutes more outside and he would be dead. He's fine now he's dried out and warmed up.

U: Well, that's great news. I've managed to get a hostel sorted.

N: Well, what's the address? We will pay the taxi fare for him.

So Luke got into the hostel, where he stayed over Christmas. He then moved back to where he used to live where he moved in with his Dad.

Luke is now 21 years old. He finished college with 2 A's and a C at A level and went to university. He has just finished his final year and looks set to get a 1st in his degree. He is one of the nicest, most well rounded young men I have ever had the fortune to meet...and I was lucky enough to meet him. He's had a few relationships, some good, some shite, but now he seems to be with a lovely, and quite frankly barking, bloke who clearly loves him to bits.

So I should feel proud and warm inside? Well I should, but I was very close to telling him to fuck off and stop wasting our time within the first 30 seconds of the call because I was tired and busy.

Sometimes it really does pay to listen.
( Undercovercarrot got done for gross misconduct on..., Fri 4 Sep 2009, 19:07, 56 replies)

The Yanks do it differently.
To cut a long and not terribly amusing story short, missed a credit card payment and here's what happened.
British call centre usually did this: Ring up, ask if I can make a payment, on receiving the answer "Sorry, no. can I pay you later?" shrug shoulders and go "Alright then."
Then the company handed over their payment-chasing duties to the US branch, notorious for being a bunch of twatwaffles.
Not only did the fuckers ring up every single day for two weeks but they dug my Mum's number out of the aether and rang her every other day too.
As I explained, loudly, to one hapless Iowan, "I didn't have any money yesterday, or the day before that or the day before THAT. Why does it come as a surprise that I don't have any money today?" She honestly couldn't work out why I was starting to get a tad upset.
Having said that, I haven't missed a payment since so I suppose it worked.
(Big D, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 18:42, Reply)

First Class Idiot
I once worked on the phones for Royal Mail customer complaints department.

One grumpy old man called up to complain about an over-flowing post-box he was standing next to on St. Alban's high street. He ranted for three minutes, getting increasingly nasty.. So.. Hungry for lunch, I told the man about 'our procedure for these situations'...

I told him that I would alert the delivery office and get a van dispatched to collect the mail within the next 20 minutes. I then kindly asked for his assistance in ensuring that the mail remained safe by reaching inside the box and removing as much mail as he could, then placing it out of sight - such as in a coat pocket or in a bag, and waiting for the delivery van to come and collect it.

Eager to help play his part in putting the world back to rights, the man confirmed he would do as I had instructed, thanked me for my professionalism and hung up.

I then picked up the phone and did my civic duty by alerting the police to a suspicious looking man lurking around St. Alban's high-street removing mail from a postbox.

Then I went to lunch.
( Greedo You're lucky you found me first., Fri 4 Sep 2009, 18:26, 2 replies)

TPS Legal Slamdunk
While enquiring on moneysupermarket about a Tesco personal loan, I made the schoolboy error of entering my email address asking for Tesco to contact me for more information. Within hours I was receiving 5 texts per day from The Unsecured Credit Company (UCC). After a week, UCC called me directly (where they got my mobile number still frightens me). An enthusiastic Saffer started his pitch. I politely cut him off, and ask him for more details about his service: his full name, his company's full name, the registered office address.

And then I politely explain: "I'm registered with the Telephone Preference Service, which means you are committing a crime by calling me right now. I have your name, your company's name, and your office address, which I will report to the police. Please now delete me from all your databases, and never call me again."

I almost felt guilty at his horrified reaction and pleading excuses. Almost.

P.S. I'm not sure it's a crime to call TPS-registered numbers, but tell them it is and you can feel like a smug asshole while doing the world a service at the same time.
(ifhw22, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 18:23, 1 reply)

Ha! Who's the dick now?
Dealing with call centres

I have literally wept with frustration at dealing with these people. I am not angry with the actual people themselves, I am angry with the companies for making me jump through hoops to speak to the right people.

Example.

My internet goes down. I know it must be the exchange, because I just know. Nothing has changed in my hardware from when it worked fine the night before.

So I call up my ISP.

Me: hi, I think my exchange is down do you have a timescale for having it fixed please?

CSR: Is your computer turned or switched to the on position please?

Me: Uh, yeah it’s on. Look, I am in IT can we dispense with the pleasantries and you do a line test and then liase with your tech dept and give me a time scale?

CSR: Could you please turn off your computer and wait 30 seconds and then turn it back on please? Then tell me if you see the Windows Vista™ logo please?

Me: Look I assure you it is not the computer, the computer works fine, the router works fine, it’s the exchange.

CSR: Could you please turn off your computer and wait 30 seconds and then turn it back on please? Then tell me if you see the Windows Vista™ logo please?

Me : ok, I have turned it on and off, but I don’t run windows I have a Mac and it runs Leopard.

CSR: What is a leopard?

Me: It’s a type of wild cat but that’s not the point, it’s an operating system for Macs.

CSR: I am only trained to support Windows based computers. Are you running Windows XP ™?

Me: It’s not a computer issue I assure you…

CSR: Are you running Windows 98SE ™?

Me: Please put me through to the technical department.

CSR: Does your router have flashing lights?

Me : Yes of course it has flashing lights, it’s a router!

CSR: There is no need to raise your voice sir. I am trying to help you.

Me: No, I think you are exacerbating the situation.

Pause. Not sure if they know what ‘exacerbate’ means.

CSR: Does your router have flashing lights?

Me : Yes. Yes it does.

CSR: Is the router plugged in?

Me: Yes! Yes!

I actually look down. It is unplugged slightly. The missus was vacuuming this morning. I plug it back in. The INTERNET works.

CSR: Are the light flashing green or yellow?

Me: Uh…I think the exchange has been fixed. Bye.
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 18:13, 4 replies)

1 for information, 2 for shriek
Call centres are a bane of my existance. My laptop broke about 6 months ago and needed it fixed. after 30 mins on the phone i decided to start messing about.

Options came 1 for technical enquiries, 2 for Contact information etc. I pressed hash. Suddenly through to a person. After another 20 mins of explaining that i have checked mostly everything they finally say "We will arrange a pick up on such and such a date" I was angered by the date so i shrieked down the phone for about a minute, sounded like a pterodactyl. They asked what it was and i denied everything suddenly the date changed for the next day.

So if you have an unacceptable pick up date, shriek like a pterodactyl
(DeniedGuilt_AcceptedCake is fighting the urge to punch turtles, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 18:07, 1 reply)

Just fucking lovely
Ive just got off the phone with 02

The conversation went like this:

ME: Hi, I paid my bill the other day but for some reason my phone has been blocked since this afternoon

IDIOT: Well is there any reason why that might have happened?

ME: No, thats why Im ringing

IDIOT: Are you sure you paid the bill?

ME: Yes

IDIOT: Did you pay it in full?

ME: YES

IDIOT: Yes I can see that on my screen. Right... well I cant really say why your phone has been blocked. errrm, I would wait 24 hours and ring back if it is still a problem.

ME: This pretty inconvenient, there is no reason for it to be blocked. Is there no way whatsoever for you to find out whats wrong?

IDIOT: No, I dont think so. You would be best off ringing back tomorrow.



What is the point in anything?
(i should have joined myspace, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 18:07, 4 replies)

Ahaaa!!...
This weeks QOTW reminded me of this video I saw in YouTube quite some time ago, it raised a chuckle at the time, and I guess some of you may have seen/heard it already, but if you haven't - I'd like to share it with you..

www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5z4Vs26-TI
(danniekavanagh did nothing constructive on, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 17:50, 4 replies)

Abusive calls
I used to work in a catalogue company's call centre in Sunderland (where I am from, making me a Mackem) and handled requests for new catalogues. I was on a quiet late shift so all the staff were sitting around one bank of desks. A call came in to a middle aged woman on the team who after about 10 seconds looked horrified and jabbed the release key on the phone, she was so shocked she could barely tell us what had happened. The next phone in the group rang, to another middle aged woman in the team, after about 20 seconds she too abruptly ended the call. The next phone rang... it was mine, the conversation went a little like this:

Me: Good evening (catalogue name), would you like a catalogue sent out?
Caller: Ah, you're a sick fucking bastard, wou working for a womans catalogue so you can get free clothes you fucking pervert.
Me: No sir, I do it for the money, we don't get free clothes.
Caller: I bet you're a fucking tranny anyway you sick cunt
Me: Sir, would you like a catalogue sent out for you to order a nice dress from?
Caller(now clearly getting more irate at my calmness): you're a fucking sick bastard, fucking transvestite, that's a fucking Geordie accent you cunt, you sitting in newcastle in your fucking dress?
Me: excuse me sir I'm not actually a Geordie and I do take offence at being called that so I'll have to terminate the call. Thanks for calling (catalogue name).

...he didn't call back
(shez, Fri 4 Sep 2009, 17:38, Reply)