I work for a national phone company, receiving call from clients with various requests: overcharging, Internet problems, product upgrades, etc.

Client: “I want to change the day you charge me the bill.”

Me: “Sure! You can choose between the sixth, the twelfth, the eighteenth, the twenty-fourth, and the thirtieth.”

Client: “Mmm, can’t you charge me on the first or second? By the sixth, I will have spent all my money and the bank will reject it.”

I mentally ask myself how changing the date will solve what, apparently, is a problem of income, but I continue.

Me: “I’m sorry, but those are the only dates that are available.”

Client: “Can’t you do something? I don’t want to be overcharged.”

After some minutes of discussion and him remarking his inability to pay after the first days of the month, he finally accepts the situation and desists on changing anything. I actually feel sorry for him.

Me: “I am sorry, sir. I would change it if I could.”

Client: “Nah, it’s okay. By the way, there’s something else I want.”

Me: “Of course! What is it?”

Client: “I want to buy [Smartwatch from a very expensive tech company] in instalments.”

Me: “Well, um… I can’t sell those. I will transfer you to the sales department.”

Client: “Okay, thank you!”

After the transfer, I stood at my desk, completely shocked. I had met low-budget clients spending too much before, but how on earth can you ask for credit for a smartwatch right after explaining how bad your finances are?

A customer calls in with an address in an area with a strong Indian community. His name is Punjabi, as are most Sikhs’ names.

Me: “Thank you for calling. Can I have your name, please?”

Caller: “[First Name] Singh. I need [describes problem].”

That is his real surname, which is pertinent to the story.

Me: “I can help with that. Your security question is, ‘What is your mother’s maiden name?’.”

Caller: “Kaur.”

This is also relevant. I handle his query… and then I go off-script.

Me: “Mr. Singh, may I ask a personal question?”

Caller: “Yes?”

Me: “Are you a Sikh?”

Caller: “Yes… is this relevant?”

Me: “Well, I’m slightly concerned about the security on your account. Sikhism requires its believers to take a certain surname. Singh for men and Kaur for women?”

Caller: “Yes…?”

Me: “Well, if I wanted to hack into your account, guessing your mother’s maiden name would be very easy. If you are Mr. Singh or you wear a turban, your mother is like Mrs. Kaur. Your first name is also Punjabi.”

Caller: “Oh… oh! Can I change that?”

Me: “Yes, sir. You can change it to anything you like. For example, your first school or just a made-up password.”

He changes his password to something else.

Caller: “Out of interest, is that in your training?”

Me: “No, I’ve just had a few Sikh friends. I used to be able to name the 5 Ks.”  

Caller: “Kesh, kara, kanga, kaccha, and kirpan!”

Me: “Yes, the five things you must keep on you at all times. I’m glad to have been able to help you today, Mr. Singh!”

I received a phone call in mid-January from a credit card company. With the craziness of the holidays, I had managed to miss a payment. The agent I spoke with was understanding and we actually chatted about life and motherhood and the craziness it can cause in one’s life.

All in all, the total phone call was probably only about forty-five minutes, including making a payment.

A few days later, as I’m walking out to check the mail, I notice a box on the porch from an online flower delivery company. My first thought is, “Oh, no, someone misdelivered a package to my house.” I pick it up to see if the address is close so I can drop it off and, to my surprise, it not only has my address but my name!

I take it inside, and I’m not gonna lie here, I’m already teary-eyed. When I open the box, there are two dozen yellow roses in a beautiful white and blue vase. I find the card and the surprises just keep coming. Not only have I got flowers, but they are from a complete stranger located in a different state!

The agent has sent me flowers with a note of encouragement from one mom to another. I sit down on my kitchen floor and cry like a baby. I’m so touched that not only a stranger but someone I only talked to for less than an hour took the time to send me some encouragement and flowers!

I call the card company. The nice man who answers the phone tells me I can’t be transferred to a specific agent, so I ask for a manager. When I get one, I tell her the whole story and, while starting to cry again, ask if she can please pass on my thanks and let the agent’s supervisor know what an amazing person they have working for them.

To that agent, wherever you are, I hope you know you made my day, week, and possibly year. It is things like this that remind me that while there is trouble, anger, and hate in the world, there is also kindness, generosity, and love for our fellow man.

I work for the call center of my local credit union.

Member: “I have a problem with your app. I’m trying to do a mobile deposit, and it’s not letting me do cash.”

Me: “That is correct?!”

Member: “Why isn’t it letting me deposit cash? I’m taking a picture of the front and back of the bills.”

Me: “Because it’s cash. We have no way to prove that you wouldn’t just spend that cash. You can take your deposit to an ATM, a branch, or a shared branch to make your deposit, but you can only deposit checks through the app.“

Member: “I can’t make it to any of those places any time soon. What if I submit a video of me burning the cash after I do the deposit? That way you’ll know for sure I’m not trying to scam you!”

Related:
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 103
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 102
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 101
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 100
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 99

I work as technical support on the help desk, doing password resets, troubleshooting hardware, etc., at a company that provides managed video conferencing services — pre-Facetime and Skype era.

Me: “Hello, thank you for calling [Company] technical support. My name is [My Name]; how can I assist you today?”

Caller: “My event didn’t connect.”

Fair enough. This is a common enough call if their systems are off at the event start time, etc.

Me: “I’d be happy to help you with that. Do you happen to have your event ID number?”

Caller: “No.”

Also fair enough — it’s a random fourteen-digit number, so not everyone knows it.

Me: “Okay, do you have your system ID number?”

Caller: “No.”

A little weird.

Me: “Is it labelled on the system in front of you?”

It should be!

Caller: “No.”

Me: “Okay, do you know your site ID?”

This is a four-digit number that never changes.

Caller: “No.”

Me: “Okay… What organization are you calling from?”

Caller: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Oh… um… okay. Where are you right now?”

Caller: “I don’t know.”

Me: *In my head* “I think you have bigger problems than I’m qualified to help you with.” *Out loud* “Is there someone you can ask?”

Caller: “There’s a receptionist. Should I ask her?”

Me: *Pauses* “Yes.”

After she found out the info from the receptionist, I was able to connect her. I got the full story; her organization wanted to attend this event but didn’t have a system to connect so they sent her to another site to join, but they just gave her the directions of how to get to the physical building and no other information. She was never upset or impolite, but I just couldn’t understand how you can get to a building and have no idea what the address is or what company is there.