Managed That Garbled Mess

, , , , | Right | September 21, 2020

My job is to answer the phones in the office to book a service visit or to look up account information. On Saturdays, I’m the only one in the office. I receive two confusing phone calls back to back.

Me: “[Company], how may I help you?”

Customer: “Is [Manager] there?”

Me: “No, sorry, he’s only here Monday through Friday.”

Customer: “Okay, because he called me and I called him back because I need information that he has. So you’re saying you won’t be able to help me?”

Me: “Um, I could look up your account to see if there’re any notes in the system. What’s your address?”

I look up his account.

Me: “Oh, sorry, I don’t have that information in here.”

Customer: “Oh, I know. [Manager] has it. So you can’t help me?”

Me: “Uh, no, he won’t be in until Monday. I can take a message and tell him to call you or—”

Customer: “No, I knew he wouldn’t be in today. I’ll just call him on Monday.” *Click*

The phone is ringing again right away, even though Saturdays are usually very slow. This phone call is mostly garbled as if on a bad cell phone connection.

Me: “[Company], how may I help you?”

Customer: “I got a quote and I want to—” *garbled*

Me: “I’m sorry, did you say you wanted to book a service or to get a quote?”

Customer: “Yes, I want to know how much.”

Me: “I’m sorry, do you need a quote or do you want to book?”

Customer: “I have a quote and I want to know when.”

Me: “Okay, what is your address so I can pull up your account?”

The phone keeps cutting in and out.

Customer: “…[Address] [Street].”

Me: “And how do you spell [Street]?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “Yes, [Street].”

Me: “Sorry, how do you spell the street name?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “You spell it ‘yes’?”

Customer: “I have a quote.”

I died a little inside.

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Why The Machines Rise…

, , , , | Right | September 21, 2020

I work in a call centre. When the majority of staff are busy, it’s my job to take customers’ details so they can get back to the customers later on. I have to follow a script for each call.

Me: “Good morning. My name is [My Name]. All our staff are busy at the moment, so can I take your details so we can call you back later?

Customer #1: *Confused* “Are you real? Is this a robot?”

Me: “No.”

Customer #1: “Are you really real?”

Me: “Yes, I’m real. I’m sorry for the confusion; I have to stick to our script.”

Customer #1: “Oh, okay.”

The customer laughs and gives details.

Next call:

Me: “Good morning. [My Name] speaking. All our staff are busy at the moment, so can I take your details so we can call you back later?”

Customer #2: “Is… Is this a machine?” *Sighs*

Me: “No, I’m real. I’m sorry, I have to stick to our script, so I can understand the confusion.”

Customer #2: “Oh, okay, then. It’s just that I’ve gone through a lot of robots and recordings today.”

[Customer #2] gives details. After a while, I get tired of being so professional.

Me: “Good morning. All our staff are busy at the moment, so can I take your details so we can call you back later?”

Customer #3: “What? Is this a robot? This is a machine.”

Me: “Well, if I am, I’m a very nice robot… Beep.”

The customer is clearly confused but chuckling.

Me: *Casual* “Nah, yeah, I’m real…” *Laughing* “This keeps happening today. It’s just our script.”

Customer #3: *Still chuckling* “Well, I hope all the robots there are as nice as you.”

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A Moving Story Of A Stubborn Oma

, , , , , | Related | September 10, 2020

For as long as I can remember, my grandmother has had this, like, fetish with moving furniture. She literally tries to rearrange things every other day. It was mostly fine while she was living alone, although it kind of sucked because pretty much any time we went up to see her, my mom, brothers, and/or myself would have to move something.

Several years ago, she had a stroke. After realizing that she wasn’t as steady as she’d once been, she finally agreed that moving was a good idea, and we got her into an assisted living facility.

She walks with a walker now and has been told by her doctor to literally never let that thing out of her reach. It’s okay to put it to the side so it’s out of the way of her recliner, but she needs to be able to grab it as soon as she gets up.

My grandmother takes that to mean that she can leave it across the room. She also keeps trying to move her furniture because she can “use those pieces to stabilize herself.”

First of all, she’s trying to move things like her bed and bookcases — things she shouldn’t be moving on her own anyway. She’s actually fallen a few times; one time they actually needed to call EMS to come check her out because she’d hit her head and given herself a black eye.

I am on the phone with her a couple of days ago, just checking in.

Oma: “I’m trying to move my chair into the bedroom.”

Me: “You don’t need to move anything!”

Oma: “Well, it’s just that I want the chair near the window so I can look outside and I’m going to move the TV in here so I can talk to people while watching TV.”

Me: “You don’t need to move anything. You can use your walker for a seat, and isn’t your bed near the window?”

Oma: “Well, yeah, but I still want to move it.”

Me: “Move a book. You can shift it from the bookcase to your table near the window. You don’t need to move your recliner.”

Oma: “Well, it would make it easier to see outside.”

Me: “Do I need to call Mom and have her talk to you?”

Oma: “No, I’ve already talked to her. And to [Aunt].”

Me: “And what did they say?”

Oma: “I don’t need to move anything.”

Me: “They’re right; you don’t need to move anything. You’re fine.”

Oma: “Well, I’ve got one of the guys coming tomorrow to help me move my sewing table and that’s the last thing I’m moving.”

I roll my eyes because it’s been “the last time” every time we’ve called her on this.

Me: “Whatever you say.”

Oma: “And my doctor did say that it wouldn’t hurt me to walk from the window to my chair and back.”

Me: “Just as long as you use your walker.”

Oma: “Well, I hear them coming down the hall, so it’s lunchtime. I’ll talk to you later.”

Me: “Enjoy.”

Oma: “Talk to you later!”

Me: “Bye. Love you!”

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Well, The Coworker Was Half Right

, , , , , , | Working | September 4, 2020

I am a cashier at a big retailer. It’s my day off and I get a phone call from work.

Me: “Hello?”

Voice: “YOU’RE FIRED!” *Click*

I’m completely baffled. I have no write-ups on my record and have always shown up on time. I call the store back and ask to speak to my boss.

Boss: “Hi there, [Boss] speaking. How may I help you?”

Me: “It’s [My Name]. I want to know what’s going on, like why am I fired?”

Boss: “Fired? You’re not fired! Why would you be fired?”

Me: “I don’t know! Didn’t you just call me and tell me I was fired?”

Boss: “I— I never called you, and I most definitely didn’t fire you. Wait, when did you receive this call?”

Me: “A couple of minutes ago.”

Boss: “Okay, I’m gonna need to check something. I’ll call you back in about ten or fifteen minutes.”

As it turns out, one of my coworkers had called me using a voice changer to sound like my boss and pretended to fire me as a prank. He ended up fired for real.

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Since It’s Only A Suggestion…

, , , , | Right | September 1, 2020

I work in IT for a small company. The number for the IT department near-constantly gets calls for a credit card company due to the phone number being similar. Most callers accept they’ve got a number; this one doesn’t.

Me: “Hello, how can I help?”

Caller: “Hi, is this [Credit Card Company]?”

Me: “No, I’m afraid not.”

Caller: “Well, your colleague forwarded me to you; I suggest you deal with this.”

Me: “Not my colleague, mate.”

I put the phone down.

I’m still puzzled as to why he thought I’d believe that someone at the credit card company would forward a call to the company’s customer line instead of using the internal extensions.

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