Voicing His Complaint

Our call center uses a very good, highly accurate caller ID system that’s linked up with our computer system that will pull up all the caller’s information, previous order history, etc. — provided the caller has ever called us from that number before.

During the first days of the global health crisis about a year ago, when everyone started working from home, they were calling us from cell phones, home phones — anything but their office phones — so our system wasn’t recognizing who they were. While many people were understanding, some people… not so much.

Caller: “Hi. I want to follow up on my order from yesterday.”

The screen has come up blank; he has called us from a number we haven’t encountered before.

Me: “Sure, I can help you out. Can I get your name?”

Caller: “John.”

Me: “Okay, John, and your last name?”

Caller: “It should be in your system.”

Me: “I’m afraid it’s not coming up for me today. Can I please have your last name?”

The caller switches instantaneously from perfectly normal to raging.

Caller: “Is this how you treat your loyal customers?! I’ve been buying from y’all for thirty years, and I’ve never had to give my last name ever before, and now you’re acting like you don’t know me?!”

Me: “I apologize, please don’t take it personally. But it looks like you’re calling us from a number you haven’t used before, and—”

Caller: “Yeah, I’m calling from my cell phone. So what?”

Me: “So, we don’t have a match for your cell phone number. If you just give me your last name or the company name, I should be able to—”

Caller: *Exploding* “The number shouldn’t matter! This is John from [Company], and my voice sounds the same no matter what number I’m calling from!”

As my mind processes what he says, I can’t stop myself from blurting out:

Me: “I’m sorry, but do you think we recognize your information from your voice?”

He sputters angrily and hangs up.