In my early twenties, I was doing technical support for a phone, Internet, and TV service provider. This was in an age long gone, before we had phones with Internet and such.

I get a caller who has lost both TV and Internet. While troubleshooting, we chat about random things, and during the conversation, she casually mentions that she and her husband are in their forties.

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t fix the issue from here. I’ll need to dispatch a technician to troubleshoot on site.”

Caller: “How soon can he be here?”

Me: “He won’t be able to get there until Thursday next week.”

Caller: “Young man, if you don’t get him out here sooner, I’ll end up pregnant again!”

I do tech support over the phone. Customers can rate their experience after their call on a scale of one to ten.

A customer rated me a ten, but their impression of the company overall was rated a two, stating that we generally sucked but that I did a good job.

My supervisor reprimanded me.

Supervisor: “If you were actually good, it would have erased all his negative thoughts about the company.”

I have an associate of the bank call.

Associate: “You need to reimburse all of my overdraft fees because I’m an employee of the bank and, as such, I am not subject to any fees from the bank whatsoever.”

Me: *Calmly* “First and foremost, I have to treat you as a client.”

She starts to cuss me out and demands to speak to a supervisor. I look at my phone and I can tell the call is coming from the branch.

Me: “Are you on the clock or are you at your branch as a client?”

She cussed me out again and once more demanded to speak to a supervisor. I passed the call to my supervisor, who then reported her to HER manager for being offensive and for taking care of personal matters on the job.

I work for a bank’s call center, in the customer complaints department. I open up a case folder to find several lengthy letters from a customer complaining about the fact that several of our branches have been painted white and other various gripes about redecoration that has taken place.

After a lengthy read, he finally concludes in letter three; his real problem is that he wrote his PIN next to all the ATMs he uses in the area and can no longer access any of his accounts as they have all been painted over.

Related:
PIN-Headed, Part 21
PIN-Headed, Part 20
PIN-Headed, Part 19
PIN-Headed, Part 18
PIN-Headed, Part 17

I work in politics, taking calls from the constituents of our MP (Member of Parliament). Our MP has recently won an election. I take a call from an angry woman.

Caller: “I’m never going to vote for you again!”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that, madam. Can I ask why you have changed your mind?”

Caller: “Because [MP] voted yes to bringing in a whole lot of refugees! I saw them on the news! They’re all men!”

Me: “Well, I don’t know what news channel you watch, but—”

Caller: “You don’t understand! It’s too many new men! My son still lives with me! He’s thirty years old and he already can’t get a date!”

Me: “I… am sorry to hear that.”

Caller: “You tell [MP] that as long as my son is single, she won’t get my vote!” *Click*

Yes, I’ll be sure she includes that as an urgent item on her next manifesto.