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Plugging The Coldness Hole
Learn a new term every week. Also, some particularly audacious assholes this week... ><
Here We Go Again
SC: “The lights are on at the <client's> building again and they’re too bright!”
Ah, hello again. I haven’t heard from you in quite some time! How have you been? Why, you use to call at least once every weekend to complain that *gasp* the lights were on next door at the <company> building and were too bright for you to sleep. I know, mind boggling isn’t it? Turning on lights after it gets dark out. Of all the nerve. This cruel, unbreakable cycle of day and night has haunted you for years on end. Tormenting you with the agonizing glow of modern convenience.
But, as I have tried to tell you every week for years, this is an emergency line only. I can’t do anything about the lights being on. I also can’t just phone up the security guards at the building and tell them to spend the rest of their shift on duty as if they were mole people. I don’t even have contact numbers for them, even if I were so inclined to cast them into the shadow. We have been over this time and time and time again. Yet time and time again, my words seem to fall on either deaf ears or dense brain matter.
I cannot assist you. You matter is trivial. Stop calling.
Ooook?
Me: “Alright, and what size would you like?”
SC: “Three!”
Me: “…..three?”
SC: “Yeah.”
Me: “……”
For reference, his options were small, medium and large. I suppose it is possible he was seeking 3XL. But at the same time, given the general level of callers at this hour on this line, it’s also possible he’s planning to wear this shirt on his feet and was just going by the appropriate sizing system.
Enlightenment
( an hour later... )
SC: “The lights are still on! Didn’t you call them and tell them to turn them off!?”
Me: “I’m afraid I don’t have any contacts to the security guards at the building-“
SC: “You mean I’ve been calling for YEARS and you’ve never had a way to contact them!?”
Me: "Yes."
SC: "*(&@#$)*@$ <click>"
Ding ding ding! We have a winner! After all these longs years you’ve finally lifted your head and bathed your face in the soft glow of enlightenment ( radiating from the building next to you ). Damn, dude. Think of how much time you’ve wasted on this over the years. If you had just listened to me once, once, I could have saved you all this trouble and all this shame. Just once. In three years. That would have been all it took. Just the slightest bit of effort to, if only once, step down from your gilded chariot and listen to the whimperings of we, the little people.
Think about that though. 3 years. This guy has been calling for 3 years, and it’s taken me this long to finally get him to listen to a word I say.
Protip
Me: “Alright, and the item number please?”
SC: “Um, xxxx”
Me: “I’m afraid I only have that in size 7 and 7.5”
SC: “Oh….uh, how about xxxx?”
Me: “What size were you looking for?”
SC: “Size 9.”
Me: “Unfortunately, I don’t have size 9 in that item either.”
SC: “Ummm…..uhhh…….lemme call back.”
Pro Tip: If you’re trying to order from last year’s catalog, expect some items to be discontinued or out of stock.
Protip #2
( 5 minutes later he calls back.... )
SC: “How about xxxx?”
Me: “xxxx?”
SC: “Yeah”
Me: “I’m afraid that doesn’t even come up as an item.”
SC: “No?”
Me: “No, sorry.”
Pro tip: If you’re trying to order from a 2005 catalog, expect some items to no longer exist.
SC: “I’ll jus get a cap than!”
Hah, that’s the spirit! Never say die. If you can’t get what you want, then just go for a hat. Hats are the universal constant up north. Even if it wasn’t what we wanted, at least he knows he’ll still enjoy having something to stick on his head. Go through the catalog for something else he wants and call back later? Hell no! If he walked away empty handed now, his family would be shamed for generations. Oh no, he must finish this right here, right now. It is a rite of passage. Also, of hats.
The Odyssey
SC: “Here’s what’s going on: a month, month and a half ago-“
Ok, time out. I’m going to have to disqualify you right there. Nothing that requires you to give me a month’s worth of back story can possibly be an emergency at this time of night.
SC: “-a part of my fridge stopped working. Frank sent out a repair guy to repair it and, uh, I noticed today after I did all my grocery shopping that it wasn’t working again. I’ve been keeping a thermostat in it to keep track of it. A thermometer. Anyways, it wasn’t working so I called the repair man back out. He came back out and repaired it and if it’s going to work I’ll know by morning if it’s going to cool down. If it’s not going to work by tomorrow I’ll have to get a new fridge.”
Holy plot exposition, Batman. Ok, so…..that full minute or two of you rambling on and on and on amounted to nothing more than “I might need a new fridge”? You couldn’t have condensed that a bit? Also, whose Frank? I appreciate you’re trying to bring me up to speed with The Story So Far™ but I don’t know who any of the characters are. You can’t just drop me into the show halfway through season 2.
Me: “Alright-“
SC: “Yeah, I just wanted to let you know that the repairman has been there and he let me know that Frank would take care of it from his end.”
Me: “Alright, so, do you want me to let the office know?”
SC: “Well no, Frank should be in tomorrow. I know he’s going on vacation soon. But he should be in tomorrow so I’ll just report to him. Only thing I’m saying is it may be ok now. Ok? It was good for a month and a half over the summer which gave me plenty of time for a fridge replacement. Right now I have the thermometer in my fridge and its come down to 8 Celsius. The repair man said it should come down to 4 or 0 Celsius.”
….right, ok. You win, I give up. What exactly is it you’re calling for? What do you want me to do, man? At least give me a hint?
Me: “Alright….what exactly can I do for you?”
SC: “I just wanted to let you know what’s going on with my refrigerator. In the morning if my fridge is still not cool enough I’m going to have to get a new fridge. Because he’s tried to repair this one twice now.”
Me: “Alright, but I’m only an afterhours emergency line."
SC: “Yeah, but, well, the reason I called Roy was because they were the one’s Bob sent, sent to work on it the last time. So I took the liberty, because I’m pressed for time here. I just did a big grocery shopping trip. So I didn’t want to lose all my food here. So I took it on myself to call the repairman, Roy.”
Bob? Roy? Frank? I don’t know who any of these people are! How do you expect me to care about the story when I don’t know any of the characters? Who’s the villain here? Roy sounds like the plucky hero just trying to help you out. You keep speaking of Frank rather highly, as he has helped you in the past and supports you from the background. So he’s Gandalf. So that leave’s Bob? But than why did Bob sent Roy to help you the first time…..
…..unless……it’s a trap!
Me: “Yes, I understand but-“
SC: “What’s your name by the way?”
Me: “GK”
SC: “GK? I’ll I’m trying to say is it might be ok now, but if it’s not working by the morning than I’ll need a new fridge. Or I’ll lose a lot of food.”
Me: “Yes, I understand it’s just that I’m the afterhours emergency, so if it’s not urgent right this moment-“
SC: “See, I can’t, I don’t know if its urgent right now. It’s liable to work. Its cleaned out right now because he had it open right? He had it open. I’ll know in the morning. But if it drops back down to 2 or 0 celsius than I’m ok. So what I’ll do is, I’ll check it in the morning and let Frank know if Frank’s in. He’s the building manager. If it’s not working I’ll have to have a new fridge.”
Me: “Alright, I understand, it’s just that we’re the afterhours emergency line so if its not urgent right now than I would call in the morning if the fridge ends up not working.”
SC: “Yeah I’ll have to do that. I just wanted to let you know because it’s your refrigerator. I just wanted to let you know, GK.”
So I guess it’s my fridge now. I suppose that’s why he thinks I should care. Because it’s my fridge. This guy is calling from my place apparently and rooting through my fridge. Probably drinking my last can of Coke Zero too. But despite breaking into my house and putting groceries in my fridge for no apparent reason, he still has enough decency to let me know my fridge isn’t working and call a repairman for me. Thanks, I guess.
Don’t let the cat out when you leave.
Me: “Alright.”
SC: “I’ll know in the morning if this fridge is any good or not, ok GK?”
Me: “Alright.”
SC: “Ok, bye.”
Me: “Bye.”
Thank you for wasting 5 minutes and 16 seconds of my life. I still don’t know what the point of you even calling was. As it seems like your entire objective was just to let me know about your ( my? ) fridge. I’m assuming when presented with an appliance crisis you reverted to the formative years of your childhood and recalled that knowing is, in fact, half the battle.
Theories
Me: “I’m afraid billing isn’t in till 8am pacific.”
SC: “Oh, I’m in Florida. What time is it there now?”
Me: “It’s 5am pacific currently.”
SC: “Ok….um………so….when should I try to call back?”
Me: “3 hours from now?”
SC: “………….........oooooh, ok.”
I pondered this call for some time, trying to figure out exactly how she had failed so miserably at tackling such a simplistic math problem. After much deliberation the only possible explanation I came up with is that she only has 7 fingers.
Protip #3
SC: “I only have about 2 minutes so can we do this quick?”
Pro Tip: If you only have 2 minutes to spare, perhaps now is not the best time to be trying to place a $400 order by phone.
Predictably, she ran out of time before I even got her name.
Hahahahahhahaha
“Well you're no fucking help! I wouldn’t be very proud working for this company if I was you! <click>”
…….ok, I’ll admit I had a really good laugh over that parting shot. Like out loud, tears in my eyes while my coworker looked at me funny. Than I told him what had happened and we both laughed till we teared up.
The Perfect Storm
Ha ha! I have survived! I have weathered out the perfect storm and emerged relatively unscathed from the other side. What is the perfect storm you ask? Why am I so jubilant? Well, kids, the Perfect Storm™ is a call that contains just the right amount of 3 critical elements that lodges it in the void directly between Patience Eroding and Justification for Hanging Up. The exact point where a call is as aggravating as is humanly possible yet doesn’t quite give you a good enough reason to terminate the call. Such a call typically has these 3 elements:
#1. Caller is operating on a mental level just above that of most common algae.
#2. Caller speaks just enough English to tell you what they want, but not quite enough to understand anything you say in return.
#3. Caller sounds like they’re calling from the bottom of a well in Guatemala, yet doesn’t mercifully get disconnected.
These 3 elements combine to form a sort of sadness Triforce whose only purpose is to persistently grind away at any shred of patience or compassion you have left in your hollow soul. But at the same time, never quite manages to give you a clear reason to lash out at it and hang up. So you remain stuck in this limbo, typically in some sort of conversational merry go round. Desperately repeating yourself using smaller and smaller words in the hopes that at some point, the person you’re conversing with will find a tender verbal morsel small enough for their shriveled mind to digest.
It wasn’t that I didn’t know what he was calling for. That part he managed to convey. It’s that it took me literally 9 minutes and 2 seconds to try and explain to him what I could and would be doing to help him. Stuck in a sort of unending conversational loop where I would explain how I could help, and he would chew the corner of his desk then repeat the problem. Over and over and over. For 9 minutes.
Protip #4
Pro Tip: If you try to order a web only sales item by phone you probably won’t be getting the web only price.
When It All Comes Together
Now the Yukon is calling me.. ><
Me: “Alright, and your address please?”
SC: “It’s on Ptarmigan Avenue”
Me: “Ptarmigan?”
SC: “Yeah, you know, like the bird.” ( I could almost hear the “Duh” on the end of it )
…..no, no I do not know. Oddly enough I don’t have a copy of National Geographic’s Holy Shit Its Cold Are There Really Birds Here? edition in front of me. What the heck is a Ptarmigan? And how the heck does it start with a P and a T. One moment, allow me to Google it.…..ah, yes, here we are. The Ptarmigan. Also known as, I kid you not, the Snow Chicken. Also, I kid you not, the official bird of Nunavut. Don’t you just love it when everything fits together?
Are You Serious?
Me: “Alright, I can put you at <hotel> there for $75”
SC: “That the discout or is dat da discount?”
Me: “That’s a discounted rate, yes."
SC: “If I (unclear mess of dribbled syllables) free (gorilla noises)”
Me" “….pardon?”
SC: “Ya’ll anything ( singular extended noise of varying pitch ) Irish registered for plumbing ( Larry the Cable Guy on meth in a wind tunnel )”
Me: “What was that, sorry?”
The…wha……ok, look, dude, I’m afraid I don’t speak Amerikan Inbred, so you’re going to have to give that another shot but in something that at least vaguely resembles English. I quite literally cannot make out half of what you’re saying as it is just a solid string of random guttural syllables with absolutely no punctuation or even pauses to inhale.
SC: “Getting’ off da plane ( something about tubing ) systems like ( mating call of a bull moose ) anywhere for free?”
Me: “No, I’m afraid we never have rooms for free, sorry. We’re a hotel booking service.”
SC: "Ya’ll gotta manager?! I wanna speak to a manager!”
Wait, ok, back up, let me get this straight. You want a manager ( Ironically, also me right now, tough shit ) for the hotel booking service because the booking service won’t give you a free room? Seriously? That’s your problem? Not even the manager for a hotel, but the manager of the call centre that makes hotel reservations. In other words you’re angry and demanding a manager because we wouldn’t cover your room for you? Do I have that right?
Has that ever worked? Ever? In the history of goods and services? Omigawd you won’t pay for my stuff for me, I demand to see your manager? You’ll have to excuse my incredulity here, but I’m really having trouble figuring out how even the most primitive sloped forehead missing link of a person could possibly make that sort of argument with a straight face.
And for the record no, he didn't get a "manager". I told him to get bent. Professionally of course.
The Asshole Switch
Me: “Good evening, <company> emergency line”
SC: "Wha?”
Me: “Can I help you?”
SC: “Who is this?”
Me: “This is <company> emergency line, can I help you?”
SC: “Um, I don’t know. I don’t even know who I’m talking too. I live at <address> Are you involved with them in any way?”
Me: “Yes, this is <company> emergency line. There something I can help you with?”
SC: “Well, I don’t know who I’m talking too. What’s….what’s the problem here?! Do you have anything to do with <street>?”
Me: “Yes, as I said this is <company>, a property management company-“
SC: “Well how the hell am I suppose to know?!!? You’re not expressing yourself very well! How am I suppose to know!? I’m just calling the number on my lease!”
….what’s….going on here? Did I inadvertently flick the Asshole Switch at some point? I don’t believe I’ve done anything to warrant such random outbursts of hostility for no apparent reason. Seriously, dude. You’re calling the number for <company> that you found on your lease from <company>. Who do you think I would be?
SC: “I’ve got water coming into my apartment like it’s crazy.”
Me: “Oh, alright. Can I have your name please?”
SC: “NO!! You should be asking me what apartment I’m in! THAT'S THE FIRST QUESTION YOU SHOULD BE ASKING!!!!!!"
?! What the fuckl? Holy crap, I really did flick the Asshole Switch somehow didn’t I? What is your problem, dude? I’m trying to help you here. You know, help. That thing you were calling for? Why are you jumping down my throat for trying to help?
Me: “Yes, but I still need to know your name first please.”
SC: “Really? Why?!”
…..right, I see we’re going to make this as difficult as is humanly possible for absolutely no reason other than the fact you feel like acting like a complete fuckhole to the one person that’s trying to help you. Duly noted. Now that we’re on the same page, allow us to proceed.
Me: “Well I need to get your contact info so-“
SC: “I’ll give you my name in a minute! But shouldn’t you be asking me what apartment is first so you can come and do something about it?!”
Ok, right…..at some point that I’m unaware of some sort of spiny, possibly quill bearing mammal or reptile has given up on life and decided to crawl deep into your bowels from the rear hatch to die a shameful, forgotten death. I think it would be in both of our best interests if you sought immediate medical attention to have it removed before we proceed with this call.
SC: “I don’t know where this water is coming from, there’s a pipe burst or something but it’s coming through my apartment.”
Me: “Alright, but I still need your name and number so I can have the property manager call you to help you."
SC: “My manager?”
Me: “Yes, property manager.”
SC: “Well don’t you need to know where I live first??!?! I don’t understand your questions here!!!!!”
You already told me where you live, dumbass. Why are you doing this? Right, if you insist on acting like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.
Me: “Right. Look. Do you want me to contact the property manager for you or not?”
SC: “Well, yeah, probably!”
Me: “Alright tha-“
SC: “Well what- I mean isn’t it your, your JOB to help out your owners!?”
Me: “Yes, but I need your name and phone number to do that.”
SC: “……..”
Me: “……..”
Insert about 30 seconds of dead silence. Where I assume what few rational parts of his mind he has briefly wrestle back control and actually begin weighing the benefits of Castrophic Water Damage vs Irrational Need To Be An Asshole.
SC: “…….ok.”
Thank you. Your meek, scolded child like acceptance tells me you’ve finally had a moment to stop and think about what you’ve done. Now that you’ve wasted 5 minutes of both our time on a call that literally could have taken 30 seconds, maybe we can finally get somewhere.
Me: "Ok, so what is your name please?"
SC: “I don’t know, probably written on my lease. I imagine it’s like Scott or something.”
….or not. You imagine its Scott? Imagine? Sigh. You know, if it wasn’t for the fact a burst pipe might actually adversely affect other tenants I’d hang up and let you drown.
Fucking imaginary Scott.
The Coldness Hole
Now here’s a call that you could seriously just take the recording of and play it back on TV as an anti-drug PSA.
So 8-Ball McScoobySnacks calls just after I get on shift with a problem with his fridge. It seems that everything he puts in his fridge goes bad faster than it should. In this case he’s specifically referring to a brick of cheese. His brick of cheese has gone bad like, 2 weeks before it should man. It’s not like an emergency or anything, but he just like wants to let us know cus he thinks he may need a new fridge or something, man.
Now I surmise that the fridge is not cold enough, and that this is the fatal flaw in his cheese failure. To which he agrees, because he says whenever he puts lots of stuff in the fridge it ends up blocking the hole where the coldness comes from. So because the “coldness hole” gets blocked, the fridge isn’t cold enough. In other words he’s entirely aware of what the problem is and the fact that he himself is causing it. Yet still thinks he needs a new fridge because not blocking the Coldness Hole™ with his groceries never occurred to him.
Whoa, like, quit blocking my coldness hole man.
Just....stop.
Me: “Good morning, <my company's main corporate line>, how may I help you?
SC: “Yes, is dis Georga Power?”
Me: “No it’s not, sorry.”
The more astute amongst you will quickly notice that this is should be the end of the conversation.
SC: “We have a power outage and I’m tryin’ ta get through on the number and I don’t know what dey did to the customer service emergency number.”
Me: “I do not know, this is a telecommunications company.”
Even the more dense amongst you or those suffering from blunt impact head trauma will notice that this likewise should be the end of the conversation.
SC: “Well, uh, we have a transformer that blew up and I’m trying to get some help from Georgia Power.”
Yes, you have indicated that you are trying to reach Georgia Power and I have indicated that I am not Georgia Power. Therefore there is absolutely no reason we should still be speaking. So why are you continuing to talk?
Me: “I’m afraid we have absolutely nothing to do with Georgia Power.”
SC: “Oh, ok.”
I guess you were just trucking along on the faintest remnant of hope that maybe, just maybe perhaps I lived next to Georgia Power and could run across the street and knock on their door for you. You have my apologies for me having to brutally shattered even that last shred of salvation.
annnnd rest.
Here We Go Again
SC: “The lights are on at the <client's> building again and they’re too bright!”
Ah, hello again. I haven’t heard from you in quite some time! How have you been? Why, you use to call at least once every weekend to complain that *gasp* the lights were on next door at the <company> building and were too bright for you to sleep. I know, mind boggling isn’t it? Turning on lights after it gets dark out. Of all the nerve. This cruel, unbreakable cycle of day and night has haunted you for years on end. Tormenting you with the agonizing glow of modern convenience.
But, as I have tried to tell you every week for years, this is an emergency line only. I can’t do anything about the lights being on. I also can’t just phone up the security guards at the building and tell them to spend the rest of their shift on duty as if they were mole people. I don’t even have contact numbers for them, even if I were so inclined to cast them into the shadow. We have been over this time and time and time again. Yet time and time again, my words seem to fall on either deaf ears or dense brain matter.
I cannot assist you. You matter is trivial. Stop calling.
Ooook?
Me: “Alright, and what size would you like?”
SC: “Three!”
Me: “…..three?”
SC: “Yeah.”
Me: “……”
For reference, his options were small, medium and large. I suppose it is possible he was seeking 3XL. But at the same time, given the general level of callers at this hour on this line, it’s also possible he’s planning to wear this shirt on his feet and was just going by the appropriate sizing system.
Enlightenment
( an hour later... )
SC: “The lights are still on! Didn’t you call them and tell them to turn them off!?”
Me: “I’m afraid I don’t have any contacts to the security guards at the building-“
SC: “You mean I’ve been calling for YEARS and you’ve never had a way to contact them!?”
Me: "Yes."
SC: "*(&@#$)*@$ <click>"
Ding ding ding! We have a winner! After all these longs years you’ve finally lifted your head and bathed your face in the soft glow of enlightenment ( radiating from the building next to you ). Damn, dude. Think of how much time you’ve wasted on this over the years. If you had just listened to me once, once, I could have saved you all this trouble and all this shame. Just once. In three years. That would have been all it took. Just the slightest bit of effort to, if only once, step down from your gilded chariot and listen to the whimperings of we, the little people.
Think about that though. 3 years. This guy has been calling for 3 years, and it’s taken me this long to finally get him to listen to a word I say.
Protip
Me: “Alright, and the item number please?”
SC: “Um, xxxx”
Me: “I’m afraid I only have that in size 7 and 7.5”
SC: “Oh….uh, how about xxxx?”
Me: “What size were you looking for?”
SC: “Size 9.”
Me: “Unfortunately, I don’t have size 9 in that item either.”
SC: “Ummm…..uhhh…….lemme call back.”
Pro Tip: If you’re trying to order from last year’s catalog, expect some items to be discontinued or out of stock.
Protip #2
( 5 minutes later he calls back.... )
SC: “How about xxxx?”
Me: “xxxx?”
SC: “Yeah”
Me: “I’m afraid that doesn’t even come up as an item.”
SC: “No?”
Me: “No, sorry.”
Pro tip: If you’re trying to order from a 2005 catalog, expect some items to no longer exist.
SC: “I’ll jus get a cap than!”
Hah, that’s the spirit! Never say die. If you can’t get what you want, then just go for a hat. Hats are the universal constant up north. Even if it wasn’t what we wanted, at least he knows he’ll still enjoy having something to stick on his head. Go through the catalog for something else he wants and call back later? Hell no! If he walked away empty handed now, his family would be shamed for generations. Oh no, he must finish this right here, right now. It is a rite of passage. Also, of hats.
The Odyssey
SC: “Here’s what’s going on: a month, month and a half ago-“
Ok, time out. I’m going to have to disqualify you right there. Nothing that requires you to give me a month’s worth of back story can possibly be an emergency at this time of night.
SC: “-a part of my fridge stopped working. Frank sent out a repair guy to repair it and, uh, I noticed today after I did all my grocery shopping that it wasn’t working again. I’ve been keeping a thermostat in it to keep track of it. A thermometer. Anyways, it wasn’t working so I called the repair man back out. He came back out and repaired it and if it’s going to work I’ll know by morning if it’s going to cool down. If it’s not going to work by tomorrow I’ll have to get a new fridge.”
Holy plot exposition, Batman. Ok, so…..that full minute or two of you rambling on and on and on amounted to nothing more than “I might need a new fridge”? You couldn’t have condensed that a bit? Also, whose Frank? I appreciate you’re trying to bring me up to speed with The Story So Far™ but I don’t know who any of the characters are. You can’t just drop me into the show halfway through season 2.
Me: “Alright-“
SC: “Yeah, I just wanted to let you know that the repairman has been there and he let me know that Frank would take care of it from his end.”
Me: “Alright, so, do you want me to let the office know?”
SC: “Well no, Frank should be in tomorrow. I know he’s going on vacation soon. But he should be in tomorrow so I’ll just report to him. Only thing I’m saying is it may be ok now. Ok? It was good for a month and a half over the summer which gave me plenty of time for a fridge replacement. Right now I have the thermometer in my fridge and its come down to 8 Celsius. The repair man said it should come down to 4 or 0 Celsius.”
….right, ok. You win, I give up. What exactly is it you’re calling for? What do you want me to do, man? At least give me a hint?
Me: “Alright….what exactly can I do for you?”
SC: “I just wanted to let you know what’s going on with my refrigerator. In the morning if my fridge is still not cool enough I’m going to have to get a new fridge. Because he’s tried to repair this one twice now.”
Me: “Alright, but I’m only an afterhours emergency line."
SC: “Yeah, but, well, the reason I called Roy was because they were the one’s Bob sent, sent to work on it the last time. So I took the liberty, because I’m pressed for time here. I just did a big grocery shopping trip. So I didn’t want to lose all my food here. So I took it on myself to call the repairman, Roy.”
Bob? Roy? Frank? I don’t know who any of these people are! How do you expect me to care about the story when I don’t know any of the characters? Who’s the villain here? Roy sounds like the plucky hero just trying to help you out. You keep speaking of Frank rather highly, as he has helped you in the past and supports you from the background. So he’s Gandalf. So that leave’s Bob? But than why did Bob sent Roy to help you the first time…..
…..unless……it’s a trap!
Me: “Yes, I understand but-“
SC: “What’s your name by the way?”
Me: “GK”
SC: “GK? I’ll I’m trying to say is it might be ok now, but if it’s not working by the morning than I’ll need a new fridge. Or I’ll lose a lot of food.”
Me: “Yes, I understand it’s just that I’m the afterhours emergency, so if it’s not urgent right this moment-“
SC: “See, I can’t, I don’t know if its urgent right now. It’s liable to work. Its cleaned out right now because he had it open right? He had it open. I’ll know in the morning. But if it drops back down to 2 or 0 celsius than I’m ok. So what I’ll do is, I’ll check it in the morning and let Frank know if Frank’s in. He’s the building manager. If it’s not working I’ll have to have a new fridge.”
Me: “Alright, I understand, it’s just that we’re the afterhours emergency line so if its not urgent right now than I would call in the morning if the fridge ends up not working.”
SC: “Yeah I’ll have to do that. I just wanted to let you know because it’s your refrigerator. I just wanted to let you know, GK.”
So I guess it’s my fridge now. I suppose that’s why he thinks I should care. Because it’s my fridge. This guy is calling from my place apparently and rooting through my fridge. Probably drinking my last can of Coke Zero too. But despite breaking into my house and putting groceries in my fridge for no apparent reason, he still has enough decency to let me know my fridge isn’t working and call a repairman for me. Thanks, I guess.
Don’t let the cat out when you leave.
Me: “Alright.”
SC: “I’ll know in the morning if this fridge is any good or not, ok GK?”
Me: “Alright.”
SC: “Ok, bye.”
Me: “Bye.”
Thank you for wasting 5 minutes and 16 seconds of my life. I still don’t know what the point of you even calling was. As it seems like your entire objective was just to let me know about your ( my? ) fridge. I’m assuming when presented with an appliance crisis you reverted to the formative years of your childhood and recalled that knowing is, in fact, half the battle.
Theories
Me: “I’m afraid billing isn’t in till 8am pacific.”
SC: “Oh, I’m in Florida. What time is it there now?”
Me: “It’s 5am pacific currently.”
SC: “Ok….um………so….when should I try to call back?”
Me: “3 hours from now?”
SC: “………….........oooooh, ok.”
I pondered this call for some time, trying to figure out exactly how she had failed so miserably at tackling such a simplistic math problem. After much deliberation the only possible explanation I came up with is that she only has 7 fingers.
Protip #3
SC: “I only have about 2 minutes so can we do this quick?”
Pro Tip: If you only have 2 minutes to spare, perhaps now is not the best time to be trying to place a $400 order by phone.
Predictably, she ran out of time before I even got her name.
Hahahahahhahaha
“Well you're no fucking help! I wouldn’t be very proud working for this company if I was you! <click>”
…….ok, I’ll admit I had a really good laugh over that parting shot. Like out loud, tears in my eyes while my coworker looked at me funny. Than I told him what had happened and we both laughed till we teared up.
The Perfect Storm
Ha ha! I have survived! I have weathered out the perfect storm and emerged relatively unscathed from the other side. What is the perfect storm you ask? Why am I so jubilant? Well, kids, the Perfect Storm™ is a call that contains just the right amount of 3 critical elements that lodges it in the void directly between Patience Eroding and Justification for Hanging Up. The exact point where a call is as aggravating as is humanly possible yet doesn’t quite give you a good enough reason to terminate the call. Such a call typically has these 3 elements:
#1. Caller is operating on a mental level just above that of most common algae.
#2. Caller speaks just enough English to tell you what they want, but not quite enough to understand anything you say in return.
#3. Caller sounds like they’re calling from the bottom of a well in Guatemala, yet doesn’t mercifully get disconnected.
These 3 elements combine to form a sort of sadness Triforce whose only purpose is to persistently grind away at any shred of patience or compassion you have left in your hollow soul. But at the same time, never quite manages to give you a clear reason to lash out at it and hang up. So you remain stuck in this limbo, typically in some sort of conversational merry go round. Desperately repeating yourself using smaller and smaller words in the hopes that at some point, the person you’re conversing with will find a tender verbal morsel small enough for their shriveled mind to digest.
It wasn’t that I didn’t know what he was calling for. That part he managed to convey. It’s that it took me literally 9 minutes and 2 seconds to try and explain to him what I could and would be doing to help him. Stuck in a sort of unending conversational loop where I would explain how I could help, and he would chew the corner of his desk then repeat the problem. Over and over and over. For 9 minutes.
Protip #4
Pro Tip: If you try to order a web only sales item by phone you probably won’t be getting the web only price.
When It All Comes Together
Now the Yukon is calling me.. ><
Me: “Alright, and your address please?”
SC: “It’s on Ptarmigan Avenue”
Me: “Ptarmigan?”
SC: “Yeah, you know, like the bird.” ( I could almost hear the “Duh” on the end of it )
…..no, no I do not know. Oddly enough I don’t have a copy of National Geographic’s Holy Shit Its Cold Are There Really Birds Here? edition in front of me. What the heck is a Ptarmigan? And how the heck does it start with a P and a T. One moment, allow me to Google it.…..ah, yes, here we are. The Ptarmigan. Also known as, I kid you not, the Snow Chicken. Also, I kid you not, the official bird of Nunavut. Don’t you just love it when everything fits together?
Are You Serious?
Me: “Alright, I can put you at <hotel> there for $75”
SC: “That the discout or is dat da discount?”
Me: “That’s a discounted rate, yes."
SC: “If I (unclear mess of dribbled syllables) free (gorilla noises)”
Me" “….pardon?”
SC: “Ya’ll anything ( singular extended noise of varying pitch ) Irish registered for plumbing ( Larry the Cable Guy on meth in a wind tunnel )”
Me: “What was that, sorry?”
The…wha……ok, look, dude, I’m afraid I don’t speak Amerikan Inbred, so you’re going to have to give that another shot but in something that at least vaguely resembles English. I quite literally cannot make out half of what you’re saying as it is just a solid string of random guttural syllables with absolutely no punctuation or even pauses to inhale.
SC: “Getting’ off da plane ( something about tubing ) systems like ( mating call of a bull moose ) anywhere for free?”
Me: “No, I’m afraid we never have rooms for free, sorry. We’re a hotel booking service.”
SC: "Ya’ll gotta manager?! I wanna speak to a manager!”
Wait, ok, back up, let me get this straight. You want a manager ( Ironically, also me right now, tough shit ) for the hotel booking service because the booking service won’t give you a free room? Seriously? That’s your problem? Not even the manager for a hotel, but the manager of the call centre that makes hotel reservations. In other words you’re angry and demanding a manager because we wouldn’t cover your room for you? Do I have that right?
Has that ever worked? Ever? In the history of goods and services? Omigawd you won’t pay for my stuff for me, I demand to see your manager? You’ll have to excuse my incredulity here, but I’m really having trouble figuring out how even the most primitive sloped forehead missing link of a person could possibly make that sort of argument with a straight face.
And for the record no, he didn't get a "manager". I told him to get bent. Professionally of course.
The Asshole Switch
Me: “Good evening, <company> emergency line”
SC: "Wha?”
Me: “Can I help you?”
SC: “Who is this?”
Me: “This is <company> emergency line, can I help you?”
SC: “Um, I don’t know. I don’t even know who I’m talking too. I live at <address> Are you involved with them in any way?”
Me: “Yes, this is <company> emergency line. There something I can help you with?”
SC: “Well, I don’t know who I’m talking too. What’s….what’s the problem here?! Do you have anything to do with <street>?”
Me: “Yes, as I said this is <company>, a property management company-“
SC: “Well how the hell am I suppose to know?!!? You’re not expressing yourself very well! How am I suppose to know!? I’m just calling the number on my lease!”
….what’s….going on here? Did I inadvertently flick the Asshole Switch at some point? I don’t believe I’ve done anything to warrant such random outbursts of hostility for no apparent reason. Seriously, dude. You’re calling the number for <company> that you found on your lease from <company>. Who do you think I would be?
SC: “I’ve got water coming into my apartment like it’s crazy.”
Me: “Oh, alright. Can I have your name please?”
SC: “NO!! You should be asking me what apartment I’m in! THAT'S THE FIRST QUESTION YOU SHOULD BE ASKING!!!!!!"
?! What the fuckl? Holy crap, I really did flick the Asshole Switch somehow didn’t I? What is your problem, dude? I’m trying to help you here. You know, help. That thing you were calling for? Why are you jumping down my throat for trying to help?
Me: “Yes, but I still need to know your name first please.”
SC: “Really? Why?!”
…..right, I see we’re going to make this as difficult as is humanly possible for absolutely no reason other than the fact you feel like acting like a complete fuckhole to the one person that’s trying to help you. Duly noted. Now that we’re on the same page, allow us to proceed.
Me: “Well I need to get your contact info so-“
SC: “I’ll give you my name in a minute! But shouldn’t you be asking me what apartment is first so you can come and do something about it?!”
Ok, right…..at some point that I’m unaware of some sort of spiny, possibly quill bearing mammal or reptile has given up on life and decided to crawl deep into your bowels from the rear hatch to die a shameful, forgotten death. I think it would be in both of our best interests if you sought immediate medical attention to have it removed before we proceed with this call.
SC: “I don’t know where this water is coming from, there’s a pipe burst or something but it’s coming through my apartment.”
Me: “Alright, but I still need your name and number so I can have the property manager call you to help you."
SC: “My manager?”
Me: “Yes, property manager.”
SC: “Well don’t you need to know where I live first??!?! I don’t understand your questions here!!!!!”
You already told me where you live, dumbass. Why are you doing this? Right, if you insist on acting like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.
Me: “Right. Look. Do you want me to contact the property manager for you or not?”
SC: “Well, yeah, probably!”
Me: “Alright tha-“
SC: “Well what- I mean isn’t it your, your JOB to help out your owners!?”
Me: “Yes, but I need your name and phone number to do that.”
SC: “……..”
Me: “……..”
Insert about 30 seconds of dead silence. Where I assume what few rational parts of his mind he has briefly wrestle back control and actually begin weighing the benefits of Castrophic Water Damage vs Irrational Need To Be An Asshole.
SC: “…….ok.”
Thank you. Your meek, scolded child like acceptance tells me you’ve finally had a moment to stop and think about what you’ve done. Now that you’ve wasted 5 minutes of both our time on a call that literally could have taken 30 seconds, maybe we can finally get somewhere.
Me: "Ok, so what is your name please?"
SC: “I don’t know, probably written on my lease. I imagine it’s like Scott or something.”
….or not. You imagine its Scott? Imagine? Sigh. You know, if it wasn’t for the fact a burst pipe might actually adversely affect other tenants I’d hang up and let you drown.
Fucking imaginary Scott.
The Coldness Hole
Now here’s a call that you could seriously just take the recording of and play it back on TV as an anti-drug PSA.
So 8-Ball McScoobySnacks calls just after I get on shift with a problem with his fridge. It seems that everything he puts in his fridge goes bad faster than it should. In this case he’s specifically referring to a brick of cheese. His brick of cheese has gone bad like, 2 weeks before it should man. It’s not like an emergency or anything, but he just like wants to let us know cus he thinks he may need a new fridge or something, man.
Now I surmise that the fridge is not cold enough, and that this is the fatal flaw in his cheese failure. To which he agrees, because he says whenever he puts lots of stuff in the fridge it ends up blocking the hole where the coldness comes from. So because the “coldness hole” gets blocked, the fridge isn’t cold enough. In other words he’s entirely aware of what the problem is and the fact that he himself is causing it. Yet still thinks he needs a new fridge because not blocking the Coldness Hole™ with his groceries never occurred to him.
Whoa, like, quit blocking my coldness hole man.
Just....stop.
Me: “Good morning, <my company's main corporate line>, how may I help you?
SC: “Yes, is dis Georga Power?”
Me: “No it’s not, sorry.”
The more astute amongst you will quickly notice that this is should be the end of the conversation.
SC: “We have a power outage and I’m tryin’ ta get through on the number and I don’t know what dey did to the customer service emergency number.”
Me: “I do not know, this is a telecommunications company.”
Even the more dense amongst you or those suffering from blunt impact head trauma will notice that this likewise should be the end of the conversation.
SC: “Well, uh, we have a transformer that blew up and I’m trying to get some help from Georgia Power.”
Yes, you have indicated that you are trying to reach Georgia Power and I have indicated that I am not Georgia Power. Therefore there is absolutely no reason we should still be speaking. So why are you continuing to talk?
Me: “I’m afraid we have absolutely nothing to do with Georgia Power.”
SC: “Oh, ok.”
I guess you were just trucking along on the faintest remnant of hope that maybe, just maybe perhaps I lived next to Georgia Power and could run across the street and knock on their door for you. You have my apologies for me having to brutally shattered even that last shred of salvation.
annnnd rest.
Dude, your apartment is being flooded, and you're concerned about the order of the questions the phone guy is asking?! Where the hell are your priorities?! He knows what he is doing, you don't! Just follow his directions and he will help you! 
So, when I call back and get an intelligent phone monkey 
my address isn't in the system because the rep is spelling it right this time.
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