Confessions of a Call Center Gal: a novel (36 page)

I pop a lemon mint Ricola and suck on it to soothe my aching throat.

This job has also made me partially deaf. I can barely hear out of my right ear—the ear my headpiece is glued to for eight hours a day. Sometimes, I hear a sharp ringing sound and I’ve had to amp up the volume on my headset,
just
so I can hear my callers. And even so, there are times when they sound so far away. Like when you put a seashell up to your ear and listen really hard, you hear the ocean. That’s what some of my calls sound like...big waves crashing against the shore.

Beep!

“Thanks for calling Lightning Speed Communications, this is Maddy. What can I do for you today?”

“I can barely hear you,” says the caller crossly.

I draw in my breath with a hiss. Oh God, no. Not
another
deaf person. But this is even worse
.
“I can barely hear you either.” I raise my voice several decibels.

“I need help with my…” The caller’s voice sounds so faded and garbled that I miss half of what he’s saying.

“What did you just say again sir?” I strain my ears to listen.

“What did
you
just say?” he fires back in an agitated tone.

This goes on for an hour. This
exacerbating
ridiculosity
!

During a brief interval, the caller gasps in surprise, “Oh! I’ve been holding the phone UPSIDE DOWN!”

I slap my forehead.

He chortles, seemingly tickled by this. “And here I thought I was going deaf.”

I find myself laughing deliriously. And here I thought
I
was going
deafer.
When I signed up for this job, I knew that being yelled at was par for the course. But I did
not
anticipate this at all. Having to scream at customers who talk with their phones upside down? Callers who are literally deaf.
Deaf I tell you!

And I most certainly did
not
expect to become deaf myself.

Or partially blind for that matter.

Perhaps this is a sign that I need to move on. I’ve been on the phones for almost a year now, and I feel brain dead. I don’t even have to think anymore and I’m certain I can do my job blindfolded, with both hands tied behind my back. If it wasn’t for the novels I read that bring me a much needed escape, and for Truong’s delightful and enigmatic company, I’d probably die of boredom.
   

Honestly, my job is so easy that even a monkey could do it.

Actually, a monkey could probably do it better.

And like Tiger Woods, once I’ve conquered something, I get bored and restless and desire to conquer something else. Only difference is, I aim to conquer higher than Tiger does…something other than strippers and Vegas cocktail waitresses.

Plus, Hillary still insists on doing side-by-sides with me, and it’s catapulting me into a nut house.

And there are other issues that irk me, namely having to sell. If I don’t make my sales quotas for three months in a row, I’m fired. Just like that.

So it’s time I jump ship or sink with it.

The words of Barack Obama ring loud and clear in my deaf ear…
Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek
.

Yeah Mister President! Say it like it is! Sitting up straighter, I square my shoulders and resolve that it’s time for change!

Onward and upward!

And I know just the place I want to go.

“Hey, Truong. Did you see the two postings for Second Level Techs? I think I’m going to apply.”

Lately, I’ve been eyeing the wireless headsets that these smug technicians parade around in.

They are the envy of all the minions who covet their wireless headsets. They have the freedom to roam and wander wherever their hearts desire, whilst the rest of us are chained to our desks by our non-wireless headsets.

At the mere sight of a wireless headset, my pulse quickens and my palms get sweaty. I feel faint, breathless. I feel all hot, heavy and bothered.
Ahh…
my lust for one has never ceased.

I dream of one and I drool for one. I must have one. I
MUST!

Suddenly, a techie saunters by with a wireless headset, and I stand stock still with a look of pure rapture on my face.

YOU WILL BE MINE WIRELESS HEADSET. Angry fist shake.
YOU WILL!

I’m still waiting for a response from Bruce Lee, but he’s been oddly quiet. “Truong,” I croak, my voice cracking and splitting.

Nothing. No reply.

“TRUONG!” I shout with a strained expression.

Finally, he shoots me one of his infamous
I’m-far-too-busy-for-this-conversation
looks.

“Please don’t make me yell, okay? I’ve been yelling at all these deaf callers all day.” I pop another Ricola in my mouth. “So did you see the posting or not?”

His response is tepid to say the least. “Uh-huh, why?”

“I
need
a wireless headset,” I say with dire passion. “And the best part about being a second level techie is that you don’t have to sell!”

But Truong doesn’t appear to be sold on the idea. In fact, I’m rather taken aback when he turns weepy and whiny. “But if you get the techie position, you won’t sit by me no more. Don’t leave me, bitch.” He pouts profusely.

“It won’t matter,” I assure him. “Hullo? With a wireless, I can stop by and visit you anytime!”

“Sure you will,” he says dubiously.

“Hey!” I have a brain wave. “Why don’t you apply too?”

“Me? No,” he says dismissively. “They make you take a test and I probably won’t pass it.”

“C’mon, Truong,” I beg, falling to my knees. “This job is just so stressful. We have all these unrealistic sales quotas and, by the way, this job is making me deaf. Maybe even partially blind.” I point to my eye patch. “And don’t you want a change? A challenge?”

His hand flies up in protest. “No! No! I like my job now. I don’t have to think and I like it that way. Thinking hurts my brain, plus I don’t mind the selling part. I’m actually quite good at it.”

Humph.
He is resisting. I decide to switch tactics by dangling a big fat carrot in front of him. “With a wireless headset, you’ll be able to use the restroom
and
take calls. Imagine that! You won’t have to
hold it in
anymore.”

Truong considers this briefly. After hemming and hawing, he says, “No, there’s no way I can pass the test. I suck at math.”

“Fine. But I’m still going to apply,” I say steadfastly.

Single minded in my quest for a wireless headset, I fervidly fill out the online application.

“You’re making a big mistake,” he tuts and shoots me a look of forewarning. “Those techies are arrogant bastards. They act as if they’re in their own exclusive country club.
Really.
They think they’re better than everyone else.”

“Well they
are
better than everyone else,” I quip. “They have wireless headsets and we don’t!”

Over my break, I ambush Kars and begin recruiting her.

“C’mon Kars!” I seize her fiercely by the shoulders. “Think of all the fun and freedom we can have with a wireless headset.”

“But I don’t want to be on the phones anymore,” she howls in protest. “They posted seven team lead positions and I’m going for it.”

“Tsch-tsch.” I shake my head. “It’s
so
hard to get a team lead position. There’s too much politics involved, and you have to suck up to all the right people.”

“And I have, trust me. I’ve been puffing like a chimney to get in their good
gra
—” she breaks off when she meets my eye.

“Kars!” I chide. “I thought you quit smoking?”

“I did, but I started again as soon as they posted the position. Maddy, I
need
to be a team lead; it’s my only way out. I hate being on the phones.”

I give her a tight-lipped smile. “As soon as you get the lead position, you’ll quit smoking again, right?”

Kars crosses her heart. “Right. It’s only temporary since I’m immersing myself in their lifestyle. But once they see that I’m one of
them
, I should be able to ace the interview and secure the position,” she says like she’s some sort of covert FBI agent on a clandestine operation. She lowers her voice, “I’m incognito. You know the saying—if it looks like a duck and walks like a duck...”

“You’re a goose.” I smirk. “A goose disguised as a duck.”

“What’s good for the goose is good for the gander,” she quips.
 

And she’s right. If she snags the lead position, it will surely bode well for all us goslings. She’ll be the Mother Goose, looking out for her feisty flock.

Kars interrupts my thoughts. “The smoking part is easy. The hardest part for me is acting like a complete flooze ball, flirting and slutting myself out, stroking all these managers’ egos.”

That very second, Richard Just-Call-Me-Dick Jones ambles by, and Kars completely transforms herself.

“Oooooh, Diiiiiiiiiiiiiickkkk,” she coos in a high pitched, whiny, nails-on-chalkboard voice. “That tip you gave us on selling, you know, asking the callers ‘
What is your hesitation
?’ Well it’s been working wonders for me! My sales have practically quadrupled!”

Dick puffs his chest out like a puffer fish. “Well, I am
so
glad that’s been working for you. Back in the day, when I was in the trenches like you, that sales pitch of mine sealed plenty of deals for me. I was the top sales performer for Fanny Farm Insurance.”

Karsynn’s eyes widen like hard boiled eggs. She emits a gay, tinkling laugh. “You were?” she enthuses, suddenly becoming buoyant, tossing her hair this way and that. “Wow! You’re so amaaaazzzzzzzzzzzing.”

Dick straightens himself, his eyes shining with self-importance. He addresses Kars, “And what is your name again?”

“I’m Kars,” she breathes evocatively. “Karsynn Higginbotham, and I recently applied for the team lead position,” she adds in a syrupy voice.

“Well I’m glad to see that we’ve got some good candidates.” He gives her a big fat wink and plods off.

I blink.
Err...did that just happen
?

Karsynn wheezes and collapses into a ball. “Whoa! It ain’t easy being an airhead.”

I mimic Karsynn by using a nasally, helium-filled, cat claws-scraping-car-hood voice, “Ooooooooooo, Diiiiiiiiiiick, my sales have practically quadrupled. You’re so amaaaazzzzzzzzzzzing.”

Kars delivers a solid punch to my arm. “It’s politics baby. Plus I’ve got no choice. You should see the
real
Call Center Termites that I’m up against for the team lead position.”

I shoot her a quizzical look. “Call Center Termites?”

“Yeah, these incompetent bimbos who chew on the managers’ wood. And you know what? They don’t stop there! They chew on everybody’s wood—the team leads, the supervisors, the directors, anyone and everyone who can help them get ahead. Soon we’ll have such a severe infestation of these completely inept termites who haven’t the foggiest idea how to do their jobs once they’re promoted, that this whole
friggin
’ structure will be on the brink of collapse!” She flings her arms, gesturing wildly as she finishes off her tirade.

“Okay, Kars, calm down now. Take a deep breath.”
 

She stops and catches her breath. “You worry about scoring the techie position, and I’ll worry about securing the lead position. Now,” she tuts, “have you got all your ducks in a row?”

“I’ve got all my ducks in a row,” I say indignantly.

“Well make sure they’re in a
perfect
row. You’ve got some stiff competition yourself.”

“Who?” My interest is piqued for obvious reasons.

“Mika!” she exclaims, thumping my back.

I curse under my breath, “Dammit!”

“Don’t worry, Maddy! You, me and Mika will be going places. We’re the unstoppable trio of musketeers, and we shall sally forth and conquer this call center!” Raising an imaginary sword, she bellows, “ALL FOR ONE, AND ONE FOR ALL!”

My head is still reeling from the fact that I’ll be up against Mika for the techie position.

“Well, Maddy, I’ve got plenty more schmoozing to do, and I’ve got to keep a close eye on my competition. Like they say, keep your enemies close, but keep the Call Center Termites closer.” Bouncing away with the buoyancy of a cheerleader, she wields an imaginary sword and bellows once more, “Remember what I said—ALL FOR ONE, AND ONE FOR ALL!”

I stare after her open-mouthed.

What is the world coming to? Rambo Girl has morphed into Barbie Musketeer, and she reeks of Marlboro and mints.

Oy Vey! Several weeks later, I’m still waiting with bated breath. Did I get the job? Did I
not
get it? I just want to
know
.