Phone Monkeys are People too...
I've been raising a slight chuckle at the stories of 'call centre baiting'. There was a time when I used to do the same thing, and then I tried doing the job.

I was about 16, I'd been looking at jobs *everywhere* and eventually stumbled upon an ad for work in a local double glazing company. After an evening's 'training' (which mainly involved listening in to calls that someone else was making) I was let loose with a book of phone numbers and told to get dialing (this was before the days of computers and posh NASA-style headsets.)

This is probably a good time to tell you that, in the whole 5 months I stuck it out, I managed two (count them) sales. One of those was to my own father. I was constantly being hounded by the boss to sell more or I'd have my hours cut. I was already only working 3 hours a day, for 4 days a week (on less than the minimum wage). I was lucky if I was earning £20 or £30 a week (and most of that was spent on my bus fares there and back).

There was only one person who made any money out of this job. I can't remember his name, but I'll call him 'Gary'. Gary worked afternoon *and* evening shifts and was an immoral bastard. He would put anyone who showed even the slightest interest down for a visit from the men in vans (thus ensuring he got paid commission) whether they wanted one or not. Every now and again you get people who want you to call them back in a few days (after being on holiday, or when the kids were back at school or something) to discuss their double-glazing needs. We were told in very strict terms that these had to be written down on a form and stuck in a filing cabinet by date. This ensured that, when you went to collect the form and call them back, Gary had already called them earlier in the day (when you weren't in work) and arranged it in his name. He had a decent wage packet and a wall full of 'best sales figures' certificates, and I had naff-all.

As you can imagine, I was having a pretty miserable time. Being told to 'fuck off' or worse several times a night, or wound up by some 'hilarious' knuckle-dragger from the local council estate (knowing full well that you can't even think about swearing back at them, for fear of having the (recorded) call used against you and being sacked) didn't do much to improve my mental state.

Eventually I couldn't take any more and I walked. I wish I'd done it months earlier.



Yes, cold calls are a pain in the arse... but please consider the fact that the person calling you may well be just as pissed off as you are.



(P.S. Just as an indication of how desperate this job is, a rival double glazing company even made an effort to 'poach' me. I'll write that one up later, if anyone actually gives a monkey's...)
(mellotron never could get the hang of Thursdays, Thu 3 Sep 2009, 15:59, Reply)