Sunday, February 5, 2012

I Must Be The Doctor

This is the blog I've been meaning to write for the last 2 weeks and something has always got in the way. That something has generally been sleeping or going to work in a call centre. For those of you with English as a second language, a call centre is where people go to leak their love of life into a poorly constructed headset.

If you're the type of person who will not buy caged hen eggs because of the cruelty involved in the chickens' lives, please stop phoning freephone numbers to claim free shit that companies are offering you. Everyone involved in that phone call is going to be a pissed off idiot in some respect.

First, the advert offering you a no strings attached mug and pen is going to give you a sense of entitlement that you have somehow earned your mug and pen just by being the demi god you are.

You phone the free phone number and begin your conversation with something along the lines of:

"I'm phoning to claim my free mug and pen that I'm entitled to." You say with the sort of confidence and grandeur that reeks of your own self importance. As though Zeus himself was supposed to have provided you with the mug and pen at birth and, now, thanks to this wonderful advert you've seen on your telly box at 1pm while you're sat at home watching something banal, you can finally inherit your birthright.

"Sure, I am sending you your free mug and pen that you're entitled to."
"It is free isn't it?"
"Not if you count the cost of life draining away as we have this exchange."
"So, it's not free, I knew it'd be a scam!"

And yet you still phoned...

"No, you do not have to pay any money. You don't have to pay any money."
"So, it's free?"
"Good. I hate companies like this."
"You love our mugs and pens though. Now, as an optional extra would you like to get a Faberge egg for 50p?"
"A what?"
"A Fab... a pretty shiny egg worth loads of money. You can have one, but we need 50p for a stamp to send it to you."
"So I have to pay for it?"
"Yes, 50p. And you get a Faberge egg."
"No, I'm not paying for nothing."
"Right, not even 50p and you get a Faberge egg?"
"No. I don't want it."

At this point the conversation ends and the monkey on the phone will be berated for not being able to sell a Faberge egg for 50p. The monkey will try and explain they were talking to something that crawled out of the compensation culture and gave birth to a Big Brother wannabe which they then called Princess Love despite its penis.

On the rare occasion someone decides to buy a Faberge egg for 50p, the smug bastard company ask the monkey to just gently slip the following paragraph:

"Cool, I just need you to part with your bank details and the middle names of all your children and we'll process the payment. Before you ask, no you can't just post us 50p, that's stupid and ancient, if you don't get caught out giving your bank details over the phone how are you ever going to learn to stop phoning up for dumb shit you don't even want but are just getting because it was initially free? Now, you'll get your mug, pen and egg within 14-72 working days give or take a bit of snow and you'll only pay 50p from the details you just gave me. You're on a trial to Egg Pen and Mug World and that trial expires at 19:43 on Thursday 9th February... you need to ring us any time before then to tell us whether you intend to continue with the trial after that point. If we don't hear from you we'll assume you want to continue receiving from us and we'll send you a new mug, pen and egg every day until you die. The monthly cost will be around £40k plus the fringes of your kids and at least 4 toenails. Would you still like to proceed?"


Not even the headset monkey particularly wants to proceed beyond that point. Every phone call end has to be greeted with 19 pubescent supervisors giving the thumbs up so that none of their monkeys uses the window for swift relief in that 8 hour stint.

The only brief joy the headset monkey can possibly look out for is the moronity of the callers finally giving them so form of light relief. So far, this headset monkey has enjoyed the following highlights:

1. Alphabet Delight

Monkey: Could I have your postcode please?
Caller: Yes, it's NW3 5RX
Monkey: Was that X on the end?
Caller: Yeah, X for Quebec.

2. Horny Pensioner

Monkey: Would you like to hear from the Publisher in the future with any other products or services that might interest you?
Caller: Only if he's over 65 and open minded about his products and services.

3. Racism Unravels

Caller: Pleasure to speak to you  my dear, it's nice to be able to call up and speak to someone I can actually understand for once. Whereabouts are you based? London?
Monkey: Mumbai, I take great care with my accent Sahib so that I can have my brother back when my shift ends next week.

It's the little things that keeps the monkeys alive.

1 comment:

  1. I feel your pain. I worked for a call centre once.someone asked if their nationality was bognor Regis and another if British was spelled with a 'c'... Little amusement between faking suicide and feigning bird flu