My boss used to be a teacher in IT at university. He had the weirdest quirk for a teacher — at least compared to my own student experience.

During any written (noted) assignment, students were allowed to ask him any question they wanted, and he would answer them legitimately and correctly. In exchange, he would dock an amount of points depending on the importance of the answer.

His reason: in IT, when you are locked, you pay for a consultant. So, in order to prepare his students for real life, he applied the same principle.

I work in tech support for an ISP in the UK, and this story always sticks to me as a time I made a difference.

It is late toward the end of a late-evening shift when I get a call from a woman who is distressed and about to cry down the phone. She asks if I can help with the voicemail on her copper landlines; her husband passed away a few months ago and had recorded a message on it.

This has already been going on for a few months; the provisioning department somehow ceased the woman’s services a couple of months ago when changing the account to her name. They somehow struggled to reorder the service, and then they told her everything was lost without confirming with tech support.

Sensing her distress, I slow down.

Me: “Would you please describe as best you can what you mean by ‘message’ and when this was recorded?”

Woman: “It was done years ago. It’s a message meant to play when someone calls the line.”

This narrows it down to one of two things: either the voicemail service built into the line at the exchange level or her handset. The built-in one would mean everything is indeed lost. The other gives hope, so hope we will.

Me: “Give me five minutes. I’m going to ring your line; let it ring to voicemail.”

We hang up, and I go into the systems to remove the built-in voicemail message. Then, I take a deep breath and ring her number.

Thirty seconds in, a gruff older gentleman starts speaking, saying to leave a message. Before I know what is happening, the tears start streaming, and the lady picks up. I try my best to keep a clear voice.

Me: “I think I may have sorted it. Try ringing your landline from a mobile. I’ll call back in two minutes.”

I ring back as promised and am met with happy crying and profuse thank-yous.

Woman: “You’ve given me the first moment of joy I’ve had in months!”

Me: “It’s just my job to try and help, ma’am. I wish you well.”

In the aftermath, I just sat there in disbelief that she’d had four months of misery all because no one in the other department thought to confirm an issue with us, the ones who actually know how it works.

This isn’t a complex story, but I thought it was worth sharing that there are times when we can genuinely provide joy for others.

It is my first day and I am being given the tour of the technical support call center where I will be working after some offsite training.

Trainer: “So this is the main call floor. When you’re in training they’ll tell you how you need to basically bow down to the customer and give them whatever they want, but in practise it’s actually just lots of hand-holding idiots who don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Me: “Oh. I’m sure it’s not all that bad.”

We’re standing next to an operator who seems to be having a problem caller as we speak.

Operator: “Okay… so please just click the ‘Yes’ option.”

Pause.

Operator: “The ‘Yes’ option.”

Pause.

Operator: “Why did you click ‘No’?”

Pause.

Operator: “Well yes, it wouldn’t work because you clicked on ‘No’.”

Pause.

Operator: “Well you’re entitled to your incorrect opinion.”

Pause.

Operator: “Well then let’s try doing it the way I told you to the first time.”

Pause:

Operator: “Yes, sir, I do have a tone.”

Pause:

Operator: “Maybe it’s because you’re doing the exact opposite of my very clear and simple instructions.”

Pause: 

Operator: “Well, at least I don’t have the communication skills of an alarm clock. Please call back when you’ve calmed down and you’re swearing less.”

The operator hangs up. My trainer and I look back at each other.

Trainer: “Yeah… they’re gonna tell you we can’t do that. But we do that.” 

Related:
Welcome To Retail, Part 7
Welcome To Retail, Part 6
Welcome To Retail, Part 5
Welcome To Retail, Part 4
Welcome To Retail, Part 3

I was the IT guy for a key supply chain department in [Megacorporation]. This was unusual; most departments had to call IT with questions. When an issue arose that I couldn’t answer or fix (maybe once a quarter), I turned to the super IT specialists.

One day, such an issue arose. I went to the online phone book, and those people had been removed from the directory!

I did remember who the manager of those folks was, and I called her.

Me: “Hi, [IT Manager], this is [My Name]. Somehow all the listings for your people have been removed from the company directory.”

IT Manager: “Yes, we did that because people are bothering them and they can’t get their work done.”

Me: “Let me introduce myself. I am the IT support for the [Supply Chain Department]. I handle 99% of IT support for these folks myself. When a complicated question arises that I can’t answer, I need to talk to your people since they are the supreme experts. Since they are the experts, I would think that answering questions from those who produce our products would be part of their jobs. Please note that if I didn’t exist, your department would receive all of these calls for support.”

IT Manager: “Yes, I see. I will restore their names and numbers to the company directory.”

Client: “Can you help me? I have a problem with my computer.”

Me: “Sure, what’s the problem?”

Client: “I need this section of bullet points to be above this section.”

Me: “Did you try moving it?”

I highlight the section and then click and drag it above the other section.

Client: “Oh, my God, thank you! I hate this computer.”