The Street Scribe

 Confessions of......                                                                                                     

                                   ......An Angry, De-caffeinated Customer Services Advisor

Most of the time when at my ‘real’ job, I felt nothing but suffocation and frustration. Suffocation from the conditions and environment and frustration on behalf of the customers. A daily witness to the processes and procedure in place which tie agents hands behind their backs twice over and slap the customers in the face. They are ill advised, poorly judged and outdated. But it is a reality that they are in place and exist purely to annoy the hell out of everyone involved.

I would like to share with you all a few conversations I experience on a regular basis. Some amusing. Some with explicit content and some down right insanity!  I know there are some absolute A-Holes employed in Customer Services – I had the misfortune of working with some! But I also know that there are some wonderful people. People who will bend over backwards, fighting a system to make your journey just that little bit easier and often getting little or no thanks for their efforts.

I used to pride myself on being one of those people but now with each new day I hook up and log in, I become more debilitated. Finally beaten into submission to become the tireless, emotionless robot they require instead of the caring, emotive, sympathetic CUSTOMER service advisor.

INT - Desk The Size Of A Note Pad– Cramped Office – Cold Building– Day

Monday. 04.00AM

A as The dashing and slightly caffeinated advisor

C as The customer being passed quicker than a hot plate from call queue to call queue.

A: Good Morning, you're through to XXXXX may I take your FULL name please?

C: General response - F.Last name

A: Sorry, can I get your full name please?

 C: First & Last name.

 A: Thank you. Can I take the mobile number you want to talk about today?

 C: I didn't think you were going to ask me for that.

 * This is where it starts. The mind numbing realisation that this conversation was going to be painful.  Make light of it, hey, the last calls gone, over, finitto. Maybe this persons going to be a delight to chat to * 

A: Oh, no. I never have it to hand either (never think to when calling a mobile phone company that it’s something they may just ask for) *Insert laugh here*

Then the exchange takes a sinister turn……

 C: Well, I've already given to that moron I was talking to before you. He said I wouldn't need to go through security again.

*He lied*

A: Ok, well I will need to confirm some details for our systems so I can take your postcode if that's easier?

C: Fine! SB9888EH

 *The initial search finds no matches*

A: So that's S for sierra, B for bravo, number 9, number 8, number 8, number 8, E for Echo and H for Hotel?

C: Yes.

A: Ok, I can't find anything for you at that postcode. Could it be registered anywhere else? Have you lived at any other address whilst you've had the contract?

C: No.

A: Ok, do you pay a direct debit for the policy?

C: Yes. You're quick to take the money but not so quick to find the details when it comes to it are you?

*fair point*

C: I’m looking right at my statement so don’t even try to tell me I’m not paying for it.

A: Ok, can I take the 8-digit account number for the bank account the payment is taken from so I can try to find you that way?

*One overly exasperated sigh later and the sound of the receiver being slammed and we are to assume they are on the hunt for the card with the intention of returning. Agent ponders – thought you were looking right at your statement….?*

BEAT.

*We try to resist the urge but the urge to tap becomes uncontrollable. I begin to tap the edge of the keyboard. A rhythmic tune if I do say so myself. The full flow of my rhythm is interrupted by the return of the mysterious caller*

C: It's 4585824875875454 ---

A: Sorry, sorry. Just the account number.

C: Oh. 9873658.

A: Ok, Thank you, just searching for that now. OK. Can you tell me the first line of the address?

C: 98 Blow Street.

A: And what's that postcode please?

C: SB9888EH

*Agent now looks closely at the postcode and the words and letters form a connection......*

A: F for Foxtrot, Number, D for delta, number 9, number 8, number 8, number 8, I for Indigo and H for Hotel?

C: Yes, that's what I said, isn't it?

*Erm... actually no, it's not. When I read your postcode to you using the phonetic alphabet, or something masquerading as it, you made no mention of the fact that most of it was incorrect! I flick my headset up to let out a sigh and then swiftly back down again*

A: Ok.

*So eventually we navigate through the attitude to arrive at an active product and the purposes of the call*

Then comes the realisation.......

*The call is fact involving a third party company whom we can only advise contact telephone numbers for and timescales to varying degrees of accuracy provided by them*

                                                                                                                         First Call Resolution….My Arse!

Approximately 33 minutes later…*31 of which was an as standard ear bashing from an expectant customer who had been fed an ear full of empty promises and maybe, could-be whispers for not having unlimited access to all systems on the planet*… And a Google search later and the call ended. The customer went away having wasted 33 minutes of their life on a premium rate phone number and wasted 33 of mine along with it, for a query that hasn’t even been resolved yet. I was 25 minutes late for my break and sunk my AHT to the three and half minute barrier, which translates as no bonus for the month.  All in all, it was a pointless, senseless conversation between two complete strangers, momentarily connected by a lie.