Thank you for calling support

Some people just rub you the wrong way when you first meet them.  And no matter how much you'd like to give them another chance, and empathize with them, you simply can't place yourself in their shoes.  Their mindset is just too foreign to relate to.  Such was the case with one of the phone calls I received at my tedious job recently.  I work as a technical support agent for a web hosting company.  People call my phone when their website doesn't work, or their email can't be received, or when they find themselves in any number of frustrating situations which can arise for novices trying to manage a website.  In short, I speak to a series of pissed off customers over the course of eight and a half hours, and then wake up the next day to do it again.  Sometimes they'll start the call off with such statements as "what's wrong with you people" or "would you please connect me with somebody who knows what the hell they're talking about."  This before they've even said hello.

When such a circumstance arises, I could get offended by their obnoxiously ejaculatory words, but I usually just don't say anything at all for about 5 seconds or so, until they finally do say "hello" in a panicked voice, thinking that they've lost connection after waiting on hold for twenty minutes.  At this point, I'll say, in a dry, monotone voice: "Thank you for calling support.  My name is Tyler.  Can I please start with your username or domain."

Such was the case when Dr. Linda King found herself on my line.  And, while she did insist that I call her Dr. King, I referred to her as Linda throughout the call.  She spells out her domain name as fast as she can and and I don't quite catch each letter through her slur.  "Excuse me, I didn't quite catch that.  Could you repeat your domain, a bit more slowly please?"

She proceeds to shout each letter and then define it phonetically before proceeding to the next.  Her tone of voice seems to suggest: "You're an imbecile and I'm disgusted that I even have to speak with such scum."

"Christ!  It's not my domain, it's my username... now listen to me this time! H, as in hotel!  A, as in apple! W, as in Washington! ...." and so on, until she spells out "hawaiiheifer."  I think to myself that it's a rather interesting username, and wonder about it's origins.  I pull up her website and it's a piece of shit; two disorderly pages about her rental property in Hawaii, but nothing about cows.  Maybe she's the heifer from Hawaii.  I envision her grazing in a clearing between thick jungle vines and a gentle lavaflow.  I've never been to Hawaii, but I can distinctly see her serenely grazing in that meadow, then suddenly jerking her black-spotted neck in my direction, shouting: "what's wrong with you people!" globs of emulsified grass spewing from her drooling oral cavity.

"I've been having so many problems with you damned people... I'm actually in the process of moving to a new host!"  She says that last part with a sort of triumphant tone, as though the fact that she is going to be canceling her account is a major blow to my peace of mind.  Quite the contrary.  I'm rather pleased with the knowledge that in a few weeks this bitch will never call my phone again.

"Alright, just give me a moment while I pull up your--"

"The security question is Charlie," she impatiently interjects.  I considered explaining to her that "Charlie" isn't one of the security questions to choose from, and that perhaps she had meant to say that "Charlie" was the answer to the security question, not the question itself.  I didn't enlighten her however... I knew that it would only provoke her further, so I just asked for her name.

"My name is Dr. Linda King... and what's your name?  I'm going to write it down for my records."  She throws alot of emphasis on the word 'doctor,' seeming to imply that I should refer to her as such.  Also, she obviously tries to intimidate me by indicating that my name will be in her records.

"My name is Tyler."

"What?  Again with that static... can't you people fix your stupid phones?" For a doctor, she certainly doesn't have a very expansive vocabulary, frequently resorting to such crutch words as 'stupid,' and repeating the disdainful phrase 'you people' through the call.  It's funny too: today I didn't hear any static on my phone until Dr. King called.  This seems to suggest that the root of the static was her telephone, not mine.

"My name is Tyler, as in 'one who lays tiles'.... it's spelled with a 'Y' though, not an 'I'."  I let that little remark linger for a moment before continuing.  "Alright Linda, it looks like your security question is: 'what is your pet's name?'  And the answer to your security question... is Charlie." she doesn't catch my insinuation of her ignorance.  "And what can I do to assist you today, Linda?"

"Well, my name is Doctor King, first of all... and I don't even think you're capable of helping me... I guess we'll just have to see, now won't we.  What's your last name?"

My policy with people like this is: I'll give them one chance to change their tune, and if they don't, then they aren't getting any help from me.  So, I give her one chance to eliminate her attitude before I make the commitment to do everything in my power to not help her.  "Ma'am, I'm certainly not going to give you my last name.  Also, please don't scold me, I'm only trying to help... now... How can I assist you?"  I say this all with a sort of chipper, jeering air.

"Young man, don't talk to me with that tone again!  You people always have such an attitude.  Why don't you just do your job for once!  If you would just look at my account, you'd see why I'm calling!"  Each syllable was deliberately enunciated with unadulterated disdain.  OK... she blew it.  She will not find a friend in me.  I will neglect my duties as a technical support agent for the next 20 minutes, or however long this wretch decides to tolerate my indifference.  I don't reply for a solid ten seconds and I can feel the tension building on the line.

"Well, did you find it?"

"Linda... I've had access to your account for about two minutes now, and I can see your name, security question, billing info, and a few other details... but I still don't know why you've called.  Perhaps you'd like to tell me why you've called?"

"For Christs sake!  Would you look at my tickets!"  I wonder if she's a Christian, or if she just likes to say "Christ" alot.  I humor her, and notice that she'd created about a dozen support tickets in the past couple days.  I look at the first couple of tickets and I can see that she's copied and pasted a series of negative reviews of the web hosting company I work for into the body of these tickets.  Each ticket is identical... the same disgruntled customers expressing their point of view in each one.

"Certainly.  I'd be happy to review the tickets which you've submitted...  Is it OK if I place you on hold while doing so?"

"Well you might as well, because I'm not explaining myself to another one of you people."  I don't even indulge her with a reply, but just place on her hold, forcing her to listen to some awful electronic music with consistent static dispersed throughout.  Did you ever notice that?  Anytime you're talking to somebody at a call center and they put you on hold, the music is awful and the static comes and goes like there's waves of electronic noise interfering with the signal.  It's almost as though they're encouraging you to hang up.

I don't read any of her tickets.  Skimming through three of them showed me what I needed to see.  After ten minutes of browsing the web I come back on the line. "Thanks for holding Linda--"

"--it's Doct--"  She tries cutting me off, but I just keep talking.

"--I didn't see any technical problems, although I did find several tickets illustrating your opinion of this hosting company."

"What!  One of those tickets was about my FrontPage extensions not working.  Do you need me to give you the ticket number?  And, for your information, those other tickets don't have my opinion of your company... I found those reviews on the in-ter-net... you see, that's what people are saying about you."

"That's what they think of me personally, not the corporation that I work for?"  I'd like to ask, but I hold my tongue on that point.

"Ah, so you're having problems with your FrontPage extensions... I'm glad you finally decided to share that information with me.  Go ahead with the ticket number."  After looking up her ticket, I realize that there's absolutely nothing I can do to help this woman, and at this point, I don't rightly give a damn if her problem is ever resolved.  "Well, looking over your ticket I can see that tier-2 was awaiting your feedback.  They wanted to make sure that you have your web files backed up before they reinstall the extensions.  Did you get the email?"

"Yes I got their stupid email... and they shouldn't be asking me that stupid question!  They should know that I have it backed up.  How thick can you people get?  This has been an ongoing problem for months.  The extensions get reinstalled, they work for a day or two, and then they break and I have to call you again.  It's really getting old, and like I said, I'm moving to a new host very soon."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that issue with the extensions.  You see, the problem with Microsoft FrontPage is that it's an antiquated software that isn't even supported by Microsoft anymore.  The extensions, which are required for you to publish your changes, will break on a regular basis.  So... I'll go ahead and update the ticket, letting them know that you have the website backed up, and you can expect to hear from tier-2 via email within 24 to 48 hours.  Is there anything else that I can help you with tonight?"

"Well you haven't helped with a damned thing yet!  I want this issue fixed, and I want it fixed now!"  The conversation degraded into her yelling at me for about 15 more minutes and me just not listening to anything she said, throwing in the occasional "right" or "yeah" every 40 seconds or so while I read an article about the economic downturn around the globe.  Eventually she asked me a direct question and it took a few seconds of silence for me to realize that I'd been asked a question, but I hadn't heard what she'd asked.  Then I said: "What was that?"

"Have you even listened to anything I've said?  You people make me sick... you've ruined my day, do you know that... You... have ruined my day.  You know what you should do you little jerk?  When you go home tonight you should slit your wrists!  You'd be alot better off... you know that!"

I have to say, she caught me off guard.  Never did I expect her to encourage me to commit suicide.  It hadn't even crossed my mind and I simply didn't know how to respond.  I uttered a few half-words before finally spitting out: "Are you serious?" in a disgusted tone.

"You heard me you little shit... the world would be a better place!"

"Linda, Linda, Linda.... have a nice life."  I disconnected the call and left a note on her account explaining what she'd suggested I do.

It amazes me how so many people don't understand how to deal with those on the other end of the phone line when calling a support number for help.  When you call the help desk for your web hosting account, or the billing department of your phone company, or customer support for your internet service, you're calling a person who sits in a cubicle for eight and a half hours a day to try and help people resolve conflicts with the corporation which they work for, a corporation which they themselves probably despise.  If you insult the one person who can help you address the issues which you're trying to resolve, don't expect to get much accomplished on the call.

After Miss King canceled her account she sent a searing letter to our feedback email address.  She explained how incompetent our entire call center was, naming a few agents in particular.  I was pleased to see that she had mentioned me.  "Tyler gets ten stars for being a grade-a wise-ass."  Well, at least she noticed.