Not the sharpest knives in the drawer

I've been working in a call centre for a little under four years and having had the week from hell, so I thought I'd blog/rant about it.

To put you in to perspective, I work for a mail order catalogue company (that shan't be named) and my job roll is customer service. My friends often view my job as a source of humour due to the ridiculous nature of the calls I receive and the sheer stupidity of the people that call me. Some days I'm left pulling my hair out!

Take yesterday for instance, a woman calls me because her mother has an account with us but has passed away. While she's telling me this she's chuckling away to herself. Why? Why on Earth is she laughing about her mother's death? She continues to tell me a very dull and long drawn out story how 'Mum' was moved from one hospital to another over the course of a year and in the end her mother was left to bleed to death at home. Delightful. Then she tells me she has her own account and would like to discuss that one. I get the account up on my screen and see she's not paid us anything in months. Why you ask? Well, the woman states she's not been paying because, 'I've been really stressed with all this business with my mum that I'm having really heavy periods. Some days I'm bleeding all over the place.'
I mean c'mon. I am a man. I am a gay man. I am a gay man that doesn't really like to think about lady parts. I am a gay man that doesn't really want to think about some big, fat, size 20 lady part menstruating all over the place.


Now this is something that just plain winds me up. We have a process, because of the DPA, where I have to ask a customer for their full name as shown on the account. This could be Mrs Rita Consuela Mambojambo.
Me - Can I take your full name please?
Her - Mrs Mambojambo
Me - And your first and middle name please?
Her - Rita
Me - And your middle name?
Her - I don't have a middle name <----- HERE. This will now continue for 5 minutes with the woman arguing that she doesn't have a middle name, and not understanding why I won't take her query without it.
Then, a miracle occurs! All of a sudden Mrs Mambojamo, who's had the middle name for 62 years, remembers she has one. 'Oh, you mean Consuela.' Oh, Consuela. Yes. The name you were fucking born with. The one your parents cruelly gave you when black and white television still existed.

A tiny little thing that bugs the shit out of me, people that phone to make card payments and then when asked for the card details they say, 'It's upstairs, I'll just go and get it.' Why don't you have the sodding thing with you? Acting like you're surprised I've asked. Don't get me wrong, it's their phone bill at 10p per minute but it's wasting my time.
Sometimes when I ask for the card number I'll get back, 'What, my card number?' No. Not yours. Mine. I'm going to pay the fucking thing for you, moron.
On Wednesday a woman phones to make a payment. When I ask her for the card details she tells me she doesn't know what I'm talking about and doesn't have a payment card. WAKE UP YOU STUPID HOE.

About a year ago, woman calls up to tell me that she'd like a refund on a cardigan she bought from us as she wasn't happy with the quality.
Me - Have you returned it to us?
Her - No
Me - Well we can't refund it unless you return it to us.
Her - Well I've taken it to a charity shop now as it was shoddy. I want my money back.
Seriously?! If I'm being unreasonable then please, somebody tell me. Does that make any sense to anyone at all? That's like me taking an empty bag back to River Island and asking them to issue me with a refund for the value of the goods that were in it. Douche bag.

A man calls on Tuesday to tell me we've sent him a bill for £2.99 and he doesn't owe anything. I check his account and he's not ordered from us in a while and his balance is zero. I advised him of this and ask him to read out what he's received.
'Well, it says my account number, then Order No. and a gap. Then size, and a gap. Then colour, and a gap. Then total and it's blank then after it says £2.99 for delivery.'
He's looking at a fucking order form. If any of these people had half a brain they'd be dangerous.

I can always tell someone's intelligence by one simple thing. 'I'd like to order a fox fur coat.' Fox you say dear? I think maybe you mean faux.

At this point I have to add that I do have a very short temper at work and have very little patience with anyone, no matter what their sob story is.


A lady would like to order a cardigan from us but, unfortunately, the colour she would like is out of stock. BOO HOO :'(
'Do you think you could just nip down to the warehouse and make me one?' Oh yes. I'll just run down to the warehouse now, grab the fabric scissors and the sewing machine and it'll be on it's way. Live on the Isle of Man you say? I will personally bring it over, in the helicopter, within the hour. AND I'M THE ONE TAKING THE TABLETS. Do me a favour! If they're normal I never want to be.

Then there is just the sheer rudeness of some people. A woman calls in the week because we've over charged her 0.9p on her statement. Imagine the holiday you could have on 0.9p. I fully understand why she'd pay 10p a minute on a phone call, to ask for the 0.9p back. With something like that it's not worth the argument so I took it off. Do I get a thank you or a polite goodbye? NO.
'Oh, aren't you the one who wields the power.' Wields the power? WIELDS THE FUCKING POWER? I know exactly where you live. I'll be round your house wielding a fucking axe in a minute. Sarcastic bitch.

I've MANY more stories but I'm winding myself up just thinking about it. Toodles.


:-)