Every employee of any company dreads it. Just like when you were a kid and they had the principal’s office. Except instead of threatening to call your parents, they threaten to take away your paycheck. Yes, these are the fears of being sent to the manager’s office.
I was getting bitched out by some toothless hillbilly piece of shit who couldn’t count past six if it were on a Busch light can, so basically, just a typical day. On my extremely limited and time-monitored break, some of my fellow long-suffering employees were talking about someone who just got canned after being with the company for 12 years. Now in a call center, 12 years is like 100 fucking years. Considering the normal (smart) employee lasts weeks or months, that’s a big deal. So the gossip continued and I went back to work like normal. After my shift finally ended, I heard about some more people that seemed to be randomly fired. And then some more. Considering the constant hurt for employees and the high volume of idiot callers, this was seeming pretty weird. We all gossiped about our job security and those that were now free from Telescreen, and I left to join the real world, away from the evil dungeon known as Super Department.
The next day, I was back at it, this time helping some dumbass who could barely speak English add up a bill. Then up popped a chat from one of the supervisors who told me to go to the regional manager’s office. Now I’d been in the department manager’s office a few times, like in Don’t Get Mad And Leave, but never the regional manger’s. Once the failed math lesson was over, I slowly made my way to the office of the call-center regional manager, someone I had only seen at a distance after so many years of working in Super Department. It was like the fucking Wizard of Oz or something, except the she was a weird-looking chick and not a midget.
One of my pet peeves in life is people with egos. Now this is a pet peeve in real life, beyond the confines of Hell on Earth (aka the Telescreen call center). Now these egotistical people like to flaunt their “status” in order to feel better about themselves. They need to put other people down to prove they’re “better” than them. This of course includes call center employees. Sure they may be more successful, make more money, and definitely have a better job than me, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t fucking stupid.
Winston: “Sir, I’m looking right here at your bill. All of the charges have been added up correctly. I even double checked with a calculator while I had you on hold, and everything adds up to $113.”
Customer: “No, you’re wrong. Your system is wrong. Hell, your calculator is wrong.”
Winston: “I can go through each charge again if you want, feel free to add them with me.”
I figured I’d teach him how to use a calculator and avoid this issue in the future.
Customer: “No, I don’t need you to teach me how to add, pal. Do you know who I am?”
Well hot damn gentle reader, we did it. We hit the century mark! 100 stories of stupidity. If you’ve been with me from the beginning, you know the impossible is possible. A normal person may believe in the intelligence of the human race. Yet we have 100 examples that there are some real fucking morons out there. Really dumb people. I’m talking about extremely stupid people here.
Now I’m not trying to be defeatist by any means, because quite a bit of good can come from 100 stories of stupid. Had a shitty day at work? Feel better by laughing at those with lesser intelligence. Did something dumb today? Boost your self-esteem by realizing you aren’t a dirty Redneck that can’t count past 2 (the number of Busch Lights ordered in a round at the bar).
I’ve got plenty more than a hundred stories, believe me. It seems like I can’t stay ahead of them. Everyday I go to the call center, really not wanting anyone to be so fucking ridiculous, but I’ll be damned, they just keep on coming. Endless stupidity.
So while we’re talking about numbers, allow me to enlighten you with a story about a man that got really fucking pissed over a really fucking small number.
Winston: “What do you mean you’ve been charged? Your service hasn’t even been setup yet.”
Customer: “I have my bank statement right here and I see a charge. I can send it to you, because I’m not blind!”
An extremely stupid person doesn’t listen too well. It’s like stupidity blocks a portion of their hearing or something. This is nothing new, because most ESP’s get all worked up over some dumb shit that can easily be solved. The problem lies in the fact that they don’t understand rationale, mainly because they aren’t listening to any solutions. Come to think of it, they don’t understand much of anything at all, because they’re fucking stupid.
There was one guy who was particularly stupid deaf. I like that term, “stupid deaf,” has a nice ring to it. Anyway, his story isn’t particularly stupid, nor is it particularly hilarious. Yet for some reason, it’s been spread around the call center, and fellow employees as well as supervisors enjoy asking me about it. If they only knew how to Google “Extremely Stupid People,” they would have way more than one ESP story!
Customer: “So why don’t you tell me about this here rebate y’all sent me.”
Winston: “So you purchased the receiver box at full price, this is the $100 off the salesman told you about when you purchased your service a couple of months ago.”
Customer: “Yeah, but where the Hell’s my money? Y’all gave me this dumb card.”
Winston: “Correct, the money is on there. It’s a prepaid debit card with $100. It will spend just like cash.”
Customer: “Um, no, it won’t. Ain’t no way in Hell I’m opening up a card in my name. I’m watching my credit score.”
I’ve noticed that I help ESP customers with more than just their TV service. I mean, I help them with life in general. ESP’s need a little more assistance with pretty much everything. Like walking ten feet, eating a bowl of Wheaties, or simply using a credit card.
Winston: “I’m sorry sir, but the credit card is still saying ‘declined’ in our system.”
Customer: “Well Hell, it’s brand spankin’ new, I have no idea why it won’t work.”
Winston: “Have you used it yet?”
Customer: “Well, no. I told ya, it’s brand new.”
Winston: “That might be the problem.”
Customer: “What, do I have to do something with a new card?”
Winston: “Yes, you have to activate it.”
Customer: “Activate it? I have to activate a credit card? How in Hell’s name do I do that?”
I won’t go into detail on how to activate a card, gentle reader. I know you’re intelligent and can figure out that the giant sticker on the card saying “Call to Activate” isn’t there for decoration.
As you’ve probably gathered, I’ve had plenty of threats against my life over the last couple of years. There have been too many to count and even too many to mention all of them on the blog. I can only justifiably mention the creative and original threats, like this one:
Winston: “I’m sorry ma’am, but I can’t get the refund back to you sooner than three to five business days. It has to clear with your bank first, but we have no control over that process.”
Customer: “Na-na-na-na. You think you can get away with this?”
Winston: “Ma’am, we made sure the refund was sent to the bank yesterday…”
Customer: “Na-na-na-na. You’re gonna hang for this, you hear me? You’re gonna hang mister! You’re gonna hang!”
Hmm. I can’t make money magically appear so I’m going to be executed? By way of a noose? No, this isn’t the fucking 1600’s and I’m not a fucking witch. It must have been a figure of speech or something, because that made no sense whatsoever. Even literally speaking, I don’t think the death penalty is sentenced to people who can’t get a refund sooner than three business days.
We deal with a lot of sketchy sales agents over in Super Department. We have to help them build accounts when they get caught manipulating the system (which happens on a minute-by-minute basis). We then have to build accounts for them because they fucked with the system. As much as I think they’re pieces of shit, I happily build accounts for them because it beats talking to that trailer trash redneck yelling into the phone with a lisp because he’s missing teeth, but that I still can’t hear because of his fucking crying kids, barking dogs, and asshole friend revving an ATV engine in the background. That’s just one example of a fine Telescreen customer.
Day in and day out, my colleagues and I have to deal with the sketchiest mother fuckers around in the sales department, lying and cheating their way to getting any type of commission. No one at Telescreen seems to care since the management appointed everyone in Super Department to help make sure sales go through. So after years of all that daily lying bullshit, I really appreciate an honest sales agent. I like a man who’s not afraid to lie, and willing to simply speak the truth.
Winston: “So they already have an account?”
Agent: “Sounds like it. Say goodbye to my sale.”
Winston: “Well have you accessed their account and told them what we need to do to get the account moved?”
In my daily job searching and periodic interviewing for better positions (such as a guy that drives around town picking up dog shit), I was reminiscing of the wonderful interview process undertaken at Telescreen Inc almost two years ago. Good thing I’ve written down every ESP interaction and Telescreen misstep since my first week on the job, or else I’d forget all the finer details. If you happen to be in a rush and want me to skip over the details, I can do that too. I’ll sum up the Telescreen interview process in two simple words: Fucking stupid. There you go, now get onto more important things like making origami animals or something.
I fatefully drove by the massive Telescreen call center one day and saw a hiring sign. I was unemployed and needed a job, simple as that. I knew it was a shitty company and the the job would probably blow, but I thought it could get me by “for the time being.” Little did I know that meant two years and counting…
That night I went online to apply, and was immediately greeted by a whole bunch of bullshit. You don’t just send them your resume, you’ve got to earn the honor to apply, or at least that’s the way it seemed. You can’t just send your resume, you’ve got to fill out pages and pages of additional information instead. That’s standard with a lot of applications, but it wasn’t a real job. I mean, it’s a fucking call center.