Me: “You have reached [Call Centre]. How may I help you?

Caller: “I need to add my daughter to the membership.”

Me: “Okay, we can do that. I just need her name, date of birth, phone number, and email, and we’re good to go.”

Caller: “Her name is [Daughter] and date of birth… uh… now when was that again? It’s in winter, I know that much.”

Me: “Do you remember the month, perhaps? Maybe you could check with someone?”

Caller: “I think December? I’ll check, just a moment.”

A couple of minutes go by and he comes back. 

Caller: “Yeah, December 31st!”

Me: “Soo, New Year’s Eve?”

Caller: “Yeah, that’s right!”

I get a call and go through the opening spiel.

Me: “How can I assist you?

Caller: “Yes, I am calling about my client, [Mr. Client].”

He gives information and I pull up the file. This caller is authorized to call upon his behalf. I do the security checks and ask what I can do for him. 

Caller: “[Mr. Client] received a bill and I want to appeal it.”

Me: “Let me look into it. It seems he got a bill for destroying [equipment]. Are you appealing because he didn’t break it?”

Caller: “No, he did break it.”

Me: “Then why do you wish to appeal?”

Caller: “My client has no money, so he can’t pay this.”

Me: “Oh, do you wish to make a payment arrangement?”

Caller: “No, I want you to cancel the bill.”

Me: “May I ask why you want this bill cancelled?”

Caller: *Sighs* “Because he can’t pay it. I just told you!”

Me: “Yes, I heard that, but he destroyed expensive equipment. If he breaks something, we will send a bill for damages.”

Caller: “Yeah, but you are a multi-million-company, so you can easily pay that.”

Me: “Sir, I scrolled through your client’s file. Are you aware that this is the fifth time it happened? And that we have been sending bills for this ever since the third time it happened?”

Caller: “Yeah, so? You can pay it. My client has no money for it.”

Me: “Then I am afraid you and your client will have to look for a solution. And maybe you can advise your client to be more careful, because each time he breaks this, he will get a bill.”

Caller: “I object to that! I will file a complaint with the Ombudsman! And I will get a lawyer!”

Me: “That’s your choice, sir, as well as your right. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Caller: “I hope you are getting paid good money for this, you b****. How do you even sleep at night?!” *Hangs up*

My manager laughed loudly when he listened to this call.

I work as a tech support rep. I am one of the more tenured people at this center, and other reps often come to me for help. I know what I am doing, but I have the unfortunate affliction of being female.

Me: “Your ticket has been closed. Your issue is a known issue. There is no estimated time of resolution, but we have enough reports that this is regarded as an ongoing issue and our backend teams will continue to work on it.”

Customer: “Okay, but I’d like to hear it from a tech.”

Me: “Sir, I am a tech.”

Customer: “Yes, but I want to hear it from a tech.”

Me: “Sir, I am a tech support representative. You are speaking to a tech.”

Customer: “Well, I just want to hear it from a tech.”

Me: “I. AM. A. TECH. You want to speak to a tech, and you are currently speaking to a tech, which is me.”

Customer: “I just want to hear it from a tech!”

Me: *Giving up* “Fine. I’ll have someone call you.”

I turn to a male coworker.

Me: “[Coworker], can you call this guy? I don’t want to make it sound like I’m being a drama queen, but he wants to hear it from a male. He keeps asking for a tech and refuses to believe I am one.”

Later:

Coworker: “Yeah, you were right. He was sexist.”

There’s no funny ending, no comeuppance. It’s just another story about the often-infuriating experience of someone assuming I don’t know anything because I’m a woman.

The customer is calling because they have gotten a dunning — like a bill — with post.

Me: “May I have the order number, so I can find you in our system?”

Customer: “AAAAAAAAAHH! Oh, it’s right here on the letter.”

The rest of the call was normal. Thank you for the yell in the early morning.

I work in a call center for a big financial institution in the resolution group. I have to call this guy because his check is too low. He’s very frustrated by the unsolicited call. I give him my usual spiel to call back through the main customer service line and ask for me. Per his account, he’s elderly, and per my short interaction, likely a little hard of hearing.

He gets back through and screams at me for a while. No big deal — I’m used to that. I let him get it out.

Me: “Okay, sir, here’s why I’m calling. Your check is too short.”

I explain what could happen if he doesn’t remedy the situation.

Me: “We just need an extra [amount]. It needs to be a new check for the entire amount. We’ll return your first check.”

This results in a bunch of nonsensical yelling. He also can’t hear me well. Finally:

Customer: “I can’t write that small! Look, I tried to write the full amount, but I can’t write that small anymore!”

Okay, now we were at the root of the problem. Poor guy.

We discussed options. Could he get to the bank to have a check printed? Yup! Okay, let’s do that.

He got to the bank later that week and called me in a panic. There was a bank fee to have the check printed and he’s on a fixed income. I told him we’d cover it; he just had to save and send in proof of the fee.

He sent the check to my group’s mailing address which auto-sorted it to our specialty processing group. It was picked up by my favorite ol’ reliable processor and the bank fee was reimbursed.

In our group, we handled cases from beginning to end, so he could call me whenever he wanted. Obviously, he was very concerned about tax implications, so he called me maybe three times in the week it took to receive the check and process it. He was a nice old man — quite pleasant, actually.

That Christmas, my boss walked up with a silly grin. He had an envelope in his hand. In the envelope was a Christmas card with a developed photo of a pretty flower and a note from my favorite client wishing me a merry Christmas. He wanted to show me the flower in his garden. It’s been eight years since that interaction, and I’ll never throw that card and photo out. It meant a lot.