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This may be a bit long, but it is recent, and fairly epic.
So, recently the campus newspaper published a report on hacking, cracking, spamming, basically all things nasty on the interblag. It was a decently researched piece, though a bit sensationalist.
I thought our boss (a great lady) was overreacting to the piece. She was practically panicked. I mentioned this to her (very politely) and she asked if I would be ok switching Kevin to do phones, while he did hardware for the day.
I thought it would be great- usually taking phones adds up to getting paid for playing flash games or doing homework... but, with perfect timing, the phone rings. Actually, the phone rings and three other lines are also taken up.
Most of the morning is ok, just reassuring panicky freshmen that our campus security is actually pretty good, and it's ok, until THE CALL.
It was one of those where from the first sentence you can see it's going to be a long haul. "I th-think somebody's in my c-c-computer!!" followed by a choking gasp. My first reaction is pity. This poor woman is panicked by the article. A little over-panicked, but she just needs reassurance. I start out in a soothing tone "Alright ma'am. We're here to help, and chances are your computer is ok. Can you describe the problem for me?"
Then there's this curious sound- something I learned to dread over the course of the next fourty minutes. It sounds like a whilstling, but was really an intake of breath "WHAT?! HOW DARE YOU TELL ME THAT NOTHING IS WRONG! I AM NOT STUPID! I READ THE <campus newspaper>, AND I CAN SEE THAT MY COMPUTER IS BEING OVER- OVER- SOMETHIN IS WRONG!" - holding back sobs now, she almost sounds proud-"AND I KNOW BECAUSE MY COOKIES! I HAVE THEM!"
I carefully consider how to answer. "What about your cookies, ma'am?".
"What ABOUT them!? I'm getting them all the time! THEY ARE ON MY COMPUTER!"
... "please hold on one second ma'am". I put the phone on mute
"alright. Now having cookies is a perfectly normal part of using a computer- they just hold information about the time and date you visited a webpage. We can disable them if you want to, but it's not necessary."
silence. The next time she spoke it sounded like her voice was somehow made out of ice. "Can I please talk to someone else. I would like to speak to someone who knows what they are talking about."
Oooook. I like to think I've been helpful, but at least I don't have to talk to her. So I say sure, hand the phone to Kenyon. He cringes, and I can hear a distant stream of yelling and abuse. He talks in a soothing tone, and isn't on the phone for more than 10 minutes before he calls Kevin over. Same deal- he reassures her, and she wants to talk to somebody else. This repeats itself with Kevin now.
The real comedy- in my opinion, is that once she's done with Kevin, he hands the phone back to me. She has apparently forgotten my tone, and, being senior call center operater, I decide the call has to end- we've wasted enough time on her (there's no real protocol for how long you deal with people, but it'd been about 30 minutes by this point). So, slogging my way through hysterics and abuse, I pandered. I had her disable her cookies, run a common adware scan, and then told her that everything was off her computer. She dissolves into grateful sobs, and hangs up.
Ahh, tech support. Ye are a harsh mistress.
So, recently the campus newspaper published a report on hacking, cracking, spamming, basically all things nasty on the interblag. It was a decently researched piece, though a bit sensationalist.
I thought our boss (a great lady) was overreacting to the piece. She was practically panicked. I mentioned this to her (very politely) and she asked if I would be ok switching Kevin to do phones, while he did hardware for the day.
I thought it would be great- usually taking phones adds up to getting paid for playing flash games or doing homework... but, with perfect timing, the phone rings. Actually, the phone rings and three other lines are also taken up.
Most of the morning is ok, just reassuring panicky freshmen that our campus security is actually pretty good, and it's ok, until THE CALL.
It was one of those where from the first sentence you can see it's going to be a long haul. "I th-think somebody's in my c-c-computer!!" followed by a choking gasp. My first reaction is pity. This poor woman is panicked by the article. A little over-panicked, but she just needs reassurance. I start out in a soothing tone "Alright ma'am. We're here to help, and chances are your computer is ok. Can you describe the problem for me?"
Then there's this curious sound- something I learned to dread over the course of the next fourty minutes. It sounds like a whilstling, but was really an intake of breath "WHAT?! HOW DARE YOU TELL ME THAT NOTHING IS WRONG! I AM NOT STUPID! I READ THE <campus newspaper>, AND I CAN SEE THAT MY COMPUTER IS BEING OVER- OVER- SOMETHIN IS WRONG!" - holding back sobs now, she almost sounds proud-"AND I KNOW BECAUSE MY COOKIES! I HAVE THEM!"
I carefully consider how to answer. "What about your cookies, ma'am?".
"What ABOUT them!? I'm getting them all the time! THEY ARE ON MY COMPUTER!"
... "please hold on one second ma'am". I put the phone on mute
"alright. Now having cookies is a perfectly normal part of using a computer- they just hold information about the time and date you visited a webpage. We can disable them if you want to, but it's not necessary."
silence. The next time she spoke it sounded like her voice was somehow made out of ice. "Can I please talk to someone else. I would like to speak to someone who knows what they are talking about."
Oooook. I like to think I've been helpful, but at least I don't have to talk to her. So I say sure, hand the phone to Kenyon. He cringes, and I can hear a distant stream of yelling and abuse. He talks in a soothing tone, and isn't on the phone for more than 10 minutes before he calls Kevin over. Same deal- he reassures her, and she wants to talk to somebody else. This repeats itself with Kevin now.
The real comedy- in my opinion, is that once she's done with Kevin, he hands the phone back to me. She has apparently forgotten my tone, and, being senior call center operater, I decide the call has to end- we've wasted enough time on her (there's no real protocol for how long you deal with people, but it'd been about 30 minutes by this point). So, slogging my way through hysterics and abuse, I pandered. I had her disable her cookies, run a common adware scan, and then told her that everything was off her computer. She dissolves into grateful sobs, and hangs up.
Ahh, tech support. Ye are a harsh mistress.
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