» Call Centres

Is there a war on?
December 31st 1999, and I'm working for 999. The call centre was in Newcastle right next to the Tyne Bridge, so pretty much the centre of the universe as North East celebrations go.

I'd been taking emergency calls all evening and things were surprisingly quiet. The manager had been around with some fizzy non alcoholic grape juice, and as we neared midnight, I noticed that the calls were coming in less frequently; in fact with 2 minutes to go I hadn't had the tell-tale bell in my ear for quite a while telling me that somebody had stuck a saucepan on there head or similar nonsense. I was watching the clock count down to midnight, quite looking forward to seeing the millenium in without some ridiculous non-emergency bothering me.

Then, predictably, with thirty seconds to go, the little bell chimes...

'Emergency, which service?'

A frail old lady's voice responds 'There's lots of banging and flashing outside my window'. Looking down at the address, I place a silent curse on Pontefract for starting the millenium a minute before everybody else.

'Yes love, it's New Year's Eve'.

'But it's scary, is there a war on?'

'No love, it's the millenium. It happens once every thousand years. Is there actually an emergency?'

'I think there's a war on.'

'I'm pretty sure there's not. They tell us about these things. Do you actually require Police, Fire or Ambulance?'

'I want them to stop the noise'.

At this point protocol dictated that I had to forward this call to the appropriate police call centre. Having ruined my 'seeing in the new millenium', I thought I'd not spoil some poor police call centre handlers night, and suggested the old dear make a cup of tea and go to bed. I look down at my clock and see that it's 12:01.

I missed the millenium.

On another note, whilst there was no Millenium Bug, a certain major mobile phone network did have problems due to a network overload, and all of their handsets for eight hours showed "112 calls only".

I spent from midnight till 8am on New Years Day fielding calls from folk asking 'Is that customer services?'

'No It's emergency services. The clue is when I pick up the phone and say Emergency, which service?'

'But I called 112'

'Yes, that's the same as 999. Do you require Police, Fire or Ambulance?'

'I want customer services...'

No apologies for length, I was being paid over £50 per hour.
(Thu 3rd Sep 2009, 14:41, More)

» Mobile phone disasters

As instructed...
I worked for an IT company of national renown, and I was pretty good at my job. In fact, the highly influential outgoing operations manager (basically the guy who ran the company) had become a good friend of mine, and I was seen as his natural succesor.

So I got my promotion, and was very soon invited to attend my first Senior Management meeting in the boardroom. It was all going well; I was holding my own amongst the MD, FD, Technical Director, Group Chairman, and various Executive Directors.

Then I felt a familiar rumble in my pocket. My initial thoughts of 'Oh shit, I forgot to turn my phone off!' quickly turned to 'Oh shit, I changed my ring tone at the weekend!!!' The boardroom echoed to the sounds of a small child shouting 'SHUT THE FUCK UP!' repeatedly at the assembled suits.

Naturally, my hands turned to jelly at this point and somehow expanded massively, and as such refused to fit in my pocket to grab the offending device. After plenty of fumbling I eventually extracted it and in a vague attempt to look cool and unflustered, quickly pressed the buttons without looking what I was doing.

'Many apologies, it's off now' I said confidently.

The managing director fixed me with a glare that made me assume I was just one more fuck-up from ending my career whilst politely but insincerely saying to the board : 'Let's not dwell on it. As I was saying - the next quarter...'

'SHUT THE FUCK UP!'

Apparently I can't turn a phone off without looking.

Within two weeks somebody had been brought in to 'help me', then 'share my workload', then 'help me concentrate on my core strengths' (i.e. my prevous role in the company) before I was finally invited to 'Relocate to the Northern Office'.

'But we don't have a Northern Office?'

'Yes, we want you to set it up for us.'

'OK, what's the package?'

'It's commission only.'

'Oh. OK then'

I've never been fired in such a roundabout way.

No apologies for line spacing.
(Wed 5th Aug 2009, 0:06, More)

» Irrational Hatred

People who 'tell it like it is'
I recently watched an episode of 'Come Dine With Me' and nearly put my telly out in a fit of apoplectic rage at one woman who encompassed everything I hate about opinionated self-righteous scum.

She was the epitome of 'doley-scum' yet believed that she had the right to not just judge and deride her fellow contestants, but to do it in a rude and obnoxious manner. Having started one argument by criticising somebody for no apparent reason other than the fact that she was looking for a fight, she then proceeded to say the line I hate to hear most: "I'm sorry, but I tell it like it is, and if you don't like it that's your problem."

No it's not. It's YOUR fucking problem that your too socially retarded to be able to apply normal etiquette to a situation and save your barbed, half-witted comments for the 'confessional' camera. You clearly have no idea how to conduct yourself in public and make up for your fuckwittedness by putting on a self-aggrandizing moronic front that only serves to ruin an atmosphere, create discord and destroy any semblance of harmony. You spoil perfectly adequate attempts to create a happy, bon viveur environment and bring everybody down to your black, depressing, soul-less level just because you think that 'saying it like it is' is some kind of virtue to be worn proudly on your sleeve, alongside your cheap tattoos and chavvy bangles. Why don't you take your thick skull out of your arse, take a look around at reality and then forcefully shove it back up there so that the shit that comes out of your mouth is at least in the correct anatomical region of your haggard, pathetic body!

It was weeks ago and it still irks me...
(Fri 1st Apr 2011, 12:43, More)

» B3TA fixes the world

Queer southern types
who frown at me for asking for gravy and chips will be forced to pay for my purchase and then sample the earthly delights for themselves, until gravy and chips becomes the de facto national dish.
(Sun 25th Sep 2011, 16:41, More)

» B3TA fixes the world

TL;DR
Anybody using this as a 'witty' response will be:

In the first instance: banned from all internet boards
For a second offence: refused the right to vote in anything important
And for the third strike: shot.

And anybody responding to this post with TL;DR will be summarily shot for attempting to be clever. Go on... try it.
(Sun 25th Sep 2011, 16:20, More)