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So I'm currently working as a secretary for a department in a university. I'm posting this in Sucky Customers because the person involved is technically a "customer" in that they are a student (though no longer affiliated with our department in this case). This post is really, really long as it describes about a half-hour to 45 min. of my life that I can't get back. Onto the story!
The phone rang at around 2:00pm yesterday. I answered it with my standard greeting; the caller was obviously a student and was apparently on a cell phone, as the first few sentences were hard to understand and I had to ask him to repeat himself a few times. He asked to speak with [unfamiliar name]. I didn’t hear the name very well, and asked him to repeat himself. He asks again to speak with [unfamiliar name]. I wasn’t able to catch the specific name, but it was no one who works here so I replied that there is no one of that name here. He asked if there is anyone “new” here. Confused, I reply “sorry?” He asks again if there is anyone “new,” and repeats the unfamiliar name. Wracking my brain, I realize he must mean my supervisor, who shares initials with the unfamiliar name he kept repeating and has been here the least amount of time, after myself. Now I’m suspicious, as this gentleman has yet to identify himself or give any reason as to why he is calling. So I ask him what his call is regarding. The following is as verbatim as I can remember:
“I’m looking for a TAship, like a teaching assistant, like a student teaching assistant position with your department.” Still somewhat confused, as he was not very articulate, I asked him whether he was an undergraduate or a graduate student—we have paid positions for grad students but it is also possible to arrange an undergraduate teaching internship for course credit.
“Um, graduate, I’m gonna be in [well-renowned business school] and I wanted to do a student teaching assistantship with [my department], I’ve taken a bunch of [my department’s] courses with [professor’s surname] and I almost had a [departmental] minor…” Now I’m really confused. As far as I can tell from this gentleman’s poorly articulated request, he’s an undergraduate student who will be going to [well-renowned business school] in the fall and has taken some courses with our department, but is not a major, minor, or otherwise associated with us in an official capacity. I asked him if he had a minor or was in any way officially associated with our department just to confirm my suspicions. He did not and was not. Our graduate teaching assistantships are only for doctoral minors, but I figured I’d be nice and give him my supervisor’s information, as she does the hiring paperwork and since he wanted a job it didn’t seem completely random.
I explained to him that by the garbled unfamiliar name he’d said he must mean my supervisor. I said that he would want to talk to her, as she is our fiscal officer and handles the hiring. He replied “what does fiscal mean?” Shocked, I replied “fiscal as in money? Regarding finances?” This gentleman is apparently going to [well-renowned business school] and should already damn well know what the word “fiscal” means!
“Oh, okay” he said.
Now, to put this all in a bit more context, I had a lady waiting to speak with me through this entire conversation. She had stopped in just after I answered the phone, and was thus treated to my side of this train-wreck. So the entire phone call up to this point had consisted of me trying to get as much information as possible as quickly as possible in order to get off the phone and help the person in my office. I thought I had seen the light at the end of the tunnel that was this call, so my efforts to politely end the call intensified at this point. This gentleman, however, was not to be dissuaded.
He continued to babble on about how he had taken lots of courses with [professor’s surname], how the professor could vouch for him, etc. Despairing at this point, I offer to take down his information and call him back after I’ve looked into the matter. I ask for his name and number. He says his name quickly; it’s an uncommon name that could be spelled several different ways. I ask him to spell it. He begins to rattle off the letters of his name. I stop him, apologize and ask him to spell it using the phonetic alphabet. He’s on a cell phone and my phone isn’t the greatest so this is something I use often to avoid confusion. He again begins to rattle off the spelling of his name. I stop him a bit more firmly this time and say I need him to spell it phonetically. He is confused and says, “oh…what’s the phonetic alphabet?” I reply, “you know, like whiskey tango foxtrot?” Still doesn’t get it. I explain to him that because letters often sound alike over the phone, I need him to say a word that starts with the letter so that I can write down his name accurately. He was obviously still confused, so I give some examples: “you know, E as in elephant, C as in cat and so forth.” He seemed to catch on a bit and spelled his name phonetically, yet it still was incorrect in the end—I’m not sure if he misspoke or I misheard.
After writing down his phone number, I started really trying to hustle him off the phone with assurances that I would call him back after I did some investigating. He wasn’t done yet though. He asked for my supervisor’s email, mangling her name once again. I began to spell it phonetically, quickly, frantically trying to end this call. Two letters in, he stops me. “Wait, wait, I have to get a pen.”
Cue a minute and a half of him searching for a pen, rustling paper to find a scrap to write on. Finally, “I’m ready now,” he said. I rattled off the email address, and try to hang up. He still wasn’t done. He asked me what my supervisor’s surname was. I had spoken it multiple times throughout this conversation, but I repeated it. He didn’t understand. I repeated it again. He asked how to spell it. I told him to look at the email address. He didn’t understand. I told him the email address was her first initial and last name. He still didn’t understand. I spelled the last name out of desperation. Finally, finally he understood, and even seemed to get the (multiple, obvious) cues that I needed to go. He thanks me in a rather oily manner, and I’m free! Off the phone!
The lady who had been waiting to speak with me was absolutely appalled, and she only heard my side of the conversation. I was shell-shocked, had to wander around a bit afterward. After transacting my business with the lady, I wandered next door to the advisor’s office. I figured I’d ask this kid’s question about teaching assistantships and share my utter bewilderment at the same time. I asked about graduate TAships and research assistantships, and the advisor said they were only for doctoral students minoring in [my department], as I had already known. I mentioned the phone call I had just received, and as soon as I said the kid’s name the advisor groaned. Apparently this guy and his parents and siblings had a long history with my department, and were loathed by everyone who had interacted with them as clueless entitlement whores. His comment that “he almost had a minor” was explained thusly: he had taken classes related to the minor, but refused to take the necessary prerequisites or otherwise listen to the people (who have 20+ years of experience in this, one of whom is the director of that particular program) who know the departmental and university requirements, and so had left the program. Additionally, his father was apparently my supervisor’s supervisor at her old job. Awesome.
I decided to call the guy back immediately, rather than postpone the inevitable. After all, the advisor had made clear that there were no job opportunities for him in our department; better to get him out of our hair sooner rather than later. Also, the fact of the matter is that I like my job and I’m good at it. I try hard to provide as much assistance for as many people as I can, and I often go out of my way for people (especially if they’re nice). So I figured at the very least I can be as helpful and firm as possible and he won’t have a damn thing to complain about when this inevitably comes back to bite him.
So I called him back. He answered, I asked for him anyway (being polite) and he confirmed his identity. I told him the situation: while we had undergraduate internships and hourly positions, they had already been filled and our graduate positions were reserved for doctoral minors in [my department]. He says, “oh, okay” and I think that’s it. But no. He immediately asks, “what is the hiring process for the positions?” I was startled, as to be honest I’m not totally clear on how RA and TA positions are filled, but as most every position in our department is decided by a panel (ie multiple people) I assume it is the same across the board. I tell him that there is usually an application panel for any position involving teaching (which is true, the panel method is used for most everything in our department, including funding, etc.).
He then proceeds to ask a number of questions about the department. He asks who the head of the department is, and is it [professor’s first name, which he mispronounced]? Confused, I asked “do you mean [professor’s name]?” “Yeah,” he replies, “[slightly less mangled pronunciation of professor’s first name].” I tell him no, that is not the director of the department, rather [director’s name] is director. That particular faculty member has a chair in the department but is definitely not the director.
He asks a few more questions, and then starts asking about the departmental minor requirement (for the positions), and would his “almost minor” count, because couldn't he just take the one last class he needs to have the minor? I asked him if he was currently in graduate school. No. He wanted to know if his undergraduate minor would qualify him for a job requiring a doctoral minor. Big, big no. I had to explain to him that credits don’t transfer between undergraduate and graduate school, and that an undergraduate minor and doctoral minor were two vastly different things. He seemed to think that whatever credits didn’t go toward a major, minor or degree in undergrad could be rolled over to graduate school, and that he could keep working toward the minor in this fashion (maybe because he was attending the same university for both? I dunno). So I had to disabuse him of this notion, which took a couple minutes of explanation and repetition for each point. After this explanation, he seemed to get it until he said "so there's a probably a possibility of a position." NO. I replied, "I'm gonna be honest with you, there's probably NOT a position for you, due to the fact that you're not a doctoral minor." I told him to check our website for job postings that he might be qualified for instead and if he liked I could add him to our email list as job opportunities were often announced through email. He replied, “no, actually I wanted to be taken off of the list. You guys send me too many emails.”
Ooookay. So I say we’ll take him off the list, and to check our website, and okay gotta go buh-bye. He thanks me multiple times for “getting back to him so promptly,” but in a sort of condescending manner—as though he had read “How to Talk to Underlings So They Do What You Want” and was consciously trying to apply its principles. After I hang up I run over to the advisor’s office again, as I am just bursting with “WTF?” Not two minutes later the phone rings. Omigawd it’s him again! So I answer, and he identifies himself—“uh, I just spoke to you a minute ago”—and he has more questions. Of course he does. Of course.
It was like a broken record-player. He was asking questions about the same topics: his “almost minor” and graduate jobs. It was as though he thought he could just will a job into existence for himself. At this point he’d nearly broken my spirit, and I told him he would have to talk to an advisor. I just turned the broken-record player impression on him and replied to any question involving graduate jobs or his “almost minor” with “you’ll need to talk to an advisor.” He obviously wasn’t listening, to the point that he started muttering sort of to himself (but also to me), “I’m a great teacher, I think I’d do a great job, I’m such a good teacher…” ad nauseum. No mention of prior teaching experience, mind you.
So I make vaguely reassuring noises and start trying to get off the phone again. Again, he’s babbling away and asking random questions and again trying to find out if my supervisor is “new.” Fed up, I reply “it depends on your definition of new. She’s been here over a year” “Oh…are you new too?” Yes, yes I am. In that I’ve been here for a shorter time than anyone else, but six months to me does not qualify as “new.” I say I’ve been here six months, so if anyone is new it’s me. “So [supervisor] is new but you’re newest?” Uh, yeah.
I finally got him off my phone. I warned my supervisor that he would be emailing her. I thought that would be the end of it. Wrong again. He called again today; I actually remembered his phone number and screamed a little bit when it popped up on caller id. He asked to speak with my supervisor, but at least he managed to pronounce her name correctly this time. I put him on hold before I transferred him so that I could run down and warn her. She talked to him for a few minutes and when I saw the indicator for her line go off I ran down the hall to ask her what he said. She said he was very nice and polite, and wanted a position as a [subject of his “almost minor”] tutor and couldn't he just finish his minor when he entered grad school?
I get the feeling I haven’t seen the last of him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to work his way up the ladder by calling the director, etc. Apparently I haven’t got much to worry about though, as his family has such a horrible history with the department there’s no way he would get hired.
The phone rang at around 2:00pm yesterday. I answered it with my standard greeting; the caller was obviously a student and was apparently on a cell phone, as the first few sentences were hard to understand and I had to ask him to repeat himself a few times. He asked to speak with [unfamiliar name]. I didn’t hear the name very well, and asked him to repeat himself. He asks again to speak with [unfamiliar name]. I wasn’t able to catch the specific name, but it was no one who works here so I replied that there is no one of that name here. He asked if there is anyone “new” here. Confused, I reply “sorry?” He asks again if there is anyone “new,” and repeats the unfamiliar name. Wracking my brain, I realize he must mean my supervisor, who shares initials with the unfamiliar name he kept repeating and has been here the least amount of time, after myself. Now I’m suspicious, as this gentleman has yet to identify himself or give any reason as to why he is calling. So I ask him what his call is regarding. The following is as verbatim as I can remember:
“I’m looking for a TAship, like a teaching assistant, like a student teaching assistant position with your department.” Still somewhat confused, as he was not very articulate, I asked him whether he was an undergraduate or a graduate student—we have paid positions for grad students but it is also possible to arrange an undergraduate teaching internship for course credit.
“Um, graduate, I’m gonna be in [well-renowned business school] and I wanted to do a student teaching assistantship with [my department], I’ve taken a bunch of [my department’s] courses with [professor’s surname] and I almost had a [departmental] minor…” Now I’m really confused. As far as I can tell from this gentleman’s poorly articulated request, he’s an undergraduate student who will be going to [well-renowned business school] in the fall and has taken some courses with our department, but is not a major, minor, or otherwise associated with us in an official capacity. I asked him if he had a minor or was in any way officially associated with our department just to confirm my suspicions. He did not and was not. Our graduate teaching assistantships are only for doctoral minors, but I figured I’d be nice and give him my supervisor’s information, as she does the hiring paperwork and since he wanted a job it didn’t seem completely random.
I explained to him that by the garbled unfamiliar name he’d said he must mean my supervisor. I said that he would want to talk to her, as she is our fiscal officer and handles the hiring. He replied “what does fiscal mean?” Shocked, I replied “fiscal as in money? Regarding finances?” This gentleman is apparently going to [well-renowned business school] and should already damn well know what the word “fiscal” means!
“Oh, okay” he said. Now, to put this all in a bit more context, I had a lady waiting to speak with me through this entire conversation. She had stopped in just after I answered the phone, and was thus treated to my side of this train-wreck. So the entire phone call up to this point had consisted of me trying to get as much information as possible as quickly as possible in order to get off the phone and help the person in my office. I thought I had seen the light at the end of the tunnel that was this call, so my efforts to politely end the call intensified at this point. This gentleman, however, was not to be dissuaded.
He continued to babble on about how he had taken lots of courses with [professor’s surname], how the professor could vouch for him, etc. Despairing at this point, I offer to take down his information and call him back after I’ve looked into the matter. I ask for his name and number. He says his name quickly; it’s an uncommon name that could be spelled several different ways. I ask him to spell it. He begins to rattle off the letters of his name. I stop him, apologize and ask him to spell it using the phonetic alphabet. He’s on a cell phone and my phone isn’t the greatest so this is something I use often to avoid confusion. He again begins to rattle off the spelling of his name. I stop him a bit more firmly this time and say I need him to spell it phonetically. He is confused and says, “oh…what’s the phonetic alphabet?” I reply, “you know, like whiskey tango foxtrot?” Still doesn’t get it. I explain to him that because letters often sound alike over the phone, I need him to say a word that starts with the letter so that I can write down his name accurately. He was obviously still confused, so I give some examples: “you know, E as in elephant, C as in cat and so forth.” He seemed to catch on a bit and spelled his name phonetically, yet it still was incorrect in the end—I’m not sure if he misspoke or I misheard.
After writing down his phone number, I started really trying to hustle him off the phone with assurances that I would call him back after I did some investigating. He wasn’t done yet though. He asked for my supervisor’s email, mangling her name once again. I began to spell it phonetically, quickly, frantically trying to end this call. Two letters in, he stops me. “Wait, wait, I have to get a pen.”
Cue a minute and a half of him searching for a pen, rustling paper to find a scrap to write on. Finally, “I’m ready now,” he said. I rattled off the email address, and try to hang up. He still wasn’t done. He asked me what my supervisor’s surname was. I had spoken it multiple times throughout this conversation, but I repeated it. He didn’t understand. I repeated it again. He asked how to spell it. I told him to look at the email address. He didn’t understand. I told him the email address was her first initial and last name. He still didn’t understand. I spelled the last name out of desperation. Finally, finally he understood, and even seemed to get the (multiple, obvious) cues that I needed to go. He thanks me in a rather oily manner, and I’m free! Off the phone!The lady who had been waiting to speak with me was absolutely appalled, and she only heard my side of the conversation. I was shell-shocked, had to wander around a bit afterward. After transacting my business with the lady, I wandered next door to the advisor’s office. I figured I’d ask this kid’s question about teaching assistantships and share my utter bewilderment at the same time. I asked about graduate TAships and research assistantships, and the advisor said they were only for doctoral students minoring in [my department], as I had already known. I mentioned the phone call I had just received, and as soon as I said the kid’s name the advisor groaned. Apparently this guy and his parents and siblings had a long history with my department, and were loathed by everyone who had interacted with them as clueless entitlement whores. His comment that “he almost had a minor” was explained thusly: he had taken classes related to the minor, but refused to take the necessary prerequisites or otherwise listen to the people (who have 20+ years of experience in this, one of whom is the director of that particular program) who know the departmental and university requirements, and so had left the program. Additionally, his father was apparently my supervisor’s supervisor at her old job. Awesome.
I decided to call the guy back immediately, rather than postpone the inevitable. After all, the advisor had made clear that there were no job opportunities for him in our department; better to get him out of our hair sooner rather than later. Also, the fact of the matter is that I like my job and I’m good at it. I try hard to provide as much assistance for as many people as I can, and I often go out of my way for people (especially if they’re nice). So I figured at the very least I can be as helpful and firm as possible and he won’t have a damn thing to complain about when this inevitably comes back to bite him.
So I called him back. He answered, I asked for him anyway (being polite) and he confirmed his identity. I told him the situation: while we had undergraduate internships and hourly positions, they had already been filled and our graduate positions were reserved for doctoral minors in [my department]. He says, “oh, okay” and I think that’s it. But no. He immediately asks, “what is the hiring process for the positions?” I was startled, as to be honest I’m not totally clear on how RA and TA positions are filled, but as most every position in our department is decided by a panel (ie multiple people) I assume it is the same across the board. I tell him that there is usually an application panel for any position involving teaching (which is true, the panel method is used for most everything in our department, including funding, etc.).
He then proceeds to ask a number of questions about the department. He asks who the head of the department is, and is it [professor’s first name, which he mispronounced]? Confused, I asked “do you mean [professor’s name]?” “Yeah,” he replies, “[slightly less mangled pronunciation of professor’s first name].” I tell him no, that is not the director of the department, rather [director’s name] is director. That particular faculty member has a chair in the department but is definitely not the director.
He asks a few more questions, and then starts asking about the departmental minor requirement (for the positions), and would his “almost minor” count, because couldn't he just take the one last class he needs to have the minor? I asked him if he was currently in graduate school. No. He wanted to know if his undergraduate minor would qualify him for a job requiring a doctoral minor. Big, big no. I had to explain to him that credits don’t transfer between undergraduate and graduate school, and that an undergraduate minor and doctoral minor were two vastly different things. He seemed to think that whatever credits didn’t go toward a major, minor or degree in undergrad could be rolled over to graduate school, and that he could keep working toward the minor in this fashion (maybe because he was attending the same university for both? I dunno). So I had to disabuse him of this notion, which took a couple minutes of explanation and repetition for each point. After this explanation, he seemed to get it until he said "so there's a probably a possibility of a position." NO. I replied, "I'm gonna be honest with you, there's probably NOT a position for you, due to the fact that you're not a doctoral minor." I told him to check our website for job postings that he might be qualified for instead and if he liked I could add him to our email list as job opportunities were often announced through email. He replied, “no, actually I wanted to be taken off of the list. You guys send me too many emails.”
Ooookay. So I say we’ll take him off the list, and to check our website, and okay gotta go buh-bye. He thanks me multiple times for “getting back to him so promptly,” but in a sort of condescending manner—as though he had read “How to Talk to Underlings So They Do What You Want” and was consciously trying to apply its principles. After I hang up I run over to the advisor’s office again, as I am just bursting with “WTF?” Not two minutes later the phone rings. Omigawd it’s him again! So I answer, and he identifies himself—“uh, I just spoke to you a minute ago”—and he has more questions. Of course he does. Of course.
It was like a broken record-player. He was asking questions about the same topics: his “almost minor” and graduate jobs. It was as though he thought he could just will a job into existence for himself. At this point he’d nearly broken my spirit, and I told him he would have to talk to an advisor. I just turned the broken-record player impression on him and replied to any question involving graduate jobs or his “almost minor” with “you’ll need to talk to an advisor.” He obviously wasn’t listening, to the point that he started muttering sort of to himself (but also to me), “I’m a great teacher, I think I’d do a great job, I’m such a good teacher…” ad nauseum. No mention of prior teaching experience, mind you.
So I make vaguely reassuring noises and start trying to get off the phone again. Again, he’s babbling away and asking random questions and again trying to find out if my supervisor is “new.” Fed up, I reply “it depends on your definition of new. She’s been here over a year” “Oh…are you new too?” Yes, yes I am. In that I’ve been here for a shorter time than anyone else, but six months to me does not qualify as “new.” I say I’ve been here six months, so if anyone is new it’s me. “So [supervisor] is new but you’re newest?” Uh, yeah.
I finally got him off my phone. I warned my supervisor that he would be emailing her. I thought that would be the end of it. Wrong again. He called again today; I actually remembered his phone number and screamed a little bit when it popped up on caller id. He asked to speak with my supervisor, but at least he managed to pronounce her name correctly this time. I put him on hold before I transferred him so that I could run down and warn her. She talked to him for a few minutes and when I saw the indicator for her line go off I ran down the hall to ask her what he said. She said he was very nice and polite, and wanted a position as a [subject of his “almost minor”] tutor and couldn't he just finish his minor when he entered grad school?
I get the feeling I haven’t seen the last of him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to work his way up the ladder by calling the director, etc. Apparently I haven’t got much to worry about though, as his family has such a horrible history with the department there’s no way he would get hired.
that made me giggle! out loud...at work. My coworkers think I'm crazy now.
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