So as my first full week of being a fully fledged twenty-three-year-old I am beginning to get a bit more of a routine in my life now that the booze and birthday cake is done away with. Now that the partying is over and done with I can start concentrating on my big trip to Las Vegas in March of 2015. With just over six-months until I go I am already planning up, writing lists about list on reams of papers just waiting for the day I board that plane to a destination of many an American Dream.
Last week I started my second job. Nothing special I must add; Just working in a call-centre calling people randomly and asking if they want to take part in a survey. Yep that's right, I am one of those annoying people that calls when your in the middle of feeding the kids, administering medication to your dog or even taking a leak. And it isn't the first time I have worked as a telephone operative as previous job roles in the past involved asking you for donations to charities you probably have never heard of, persuading you to take part in market research about lunch boxes and booking in a bowling game at your local alley. And some of the responses and people you get to speak to are just priceless. Oh yes, us call centre staff have heard it all. I don't think anything that someone says or does whilst on the phone could shock me anymore.
I was coming to the end of my shift as a customer service assistant at a contact centre for a rather large national bowling alley. "Two minutes to go!" I thought in my head as I watched the analogue clock in the corner of my screen tick down the final moments of what had been a long and exhausting shift. Time soon to go home and put my feet up with a nice glass of wine. Then the dreaded tone beeped in my ear, abruptly crashing me down from my day-dream and into a script I knew off by heart. Welcoming the caller onto the line I looked at the clock as it turned 9pm. Everyone left apart from me. I was still sat there twenty-minutes later but it would be another fifteen before the caller eventually hung up. The lengthy caller in question was a rather demanding sweet-sixteener-to-be and with a birthday coming up in the next few weeks she was stopping at nothing to have it all her own way. Struggling not to laugh and snigger I listened to requests of her having pink flamingos and penguins greeting her guests from the entrance. She was only getting started. Banners of her face and with outside catering brought in for her twenty-something guest list I knew this was something I couldn't handle alone.
With no other option I put the young prima donna on hold and called the branch to gain there advice. Of course, flamingos and handmade vol au vents were banned from the birthday celebrations but oddly the banners of the little darling was allowed, as was the throwing of glittery confetti as she exited the already booked limo. Thinking that the fifteen-year-old princess would kick off I took a deep breath before taking her off hold. Relaying to her the branches answers she seemed annoyed and miffed that someone was spoiling her big day but after explaining fully that flamingos and penguins were not allowed on the premises and that outside catering would be a breach of health and safety (I know that old nut) she seems to calm down. After yelling for her father and his credit card I finally spoke to someone I thought I would be able to make sense of. That was until, quite matter of fact, he said that he would buy her another pony. But egg finally landed on this well-to-do gentleman's lap as our company did not accept American Express and so had to end the call in order to find another card. Saying goodbye and ending the call I could already hear the tantrums erupting in the background. Thankful for the day off I had planned the following day I knew I would probably never hear from the little brat again. She will be eighteen now and probably still has that silver spoon wedged between those arse-cheeks of hers.
Another job I had was market research, very similar to my second job now actually, carrying out surveys on behalf of big customers such as the government, phone providers and a multitude of high street banks. But with serious subjects to get statistics for you sometimes have to fight back the urge to just literally laugh out loud. I had this many a time, a few times where by you can plainly hear urination and others when it is simply as you go to hang up and hear the blop of a cistern and the thrashing of toilet water. One time I even caught someone in the tub! Clearly catching this man at an inconvenient time I promised to call back soon. But on the contrary he obliged and carried out the research questionnaire in full, adding in the odd splash and splosh for added effect.
The majority of people you speak to you see are very nice and genuinely as a human being you don't want to be unkind or horrible to someone. You do get the odd dick-heads that are just shouty and angry but as I hang up and code away as appropriately and with my ears probably still ringing I think, well someone either hasn't been laid in a long time or has just burnt their dinner. Sometimes though you can call at the most in consonant of times in peoples lives and not everyone makes it easy for you to get out once your into a call. One elderly lady I spoke to whilst working in charity fundraiser answered the phone politely and kindly, a warm grand-mothering voice. When I asked for the man of the household, her husband, I was told he was not in. Asking for a time in which he would be available to speak with I was met with an answer I didn't fully understand until she had hung up.
"Well pet, if you want to speak to him you will have to have a hot line to heaven" The old dear softly spoke down the line and before I even got a chance to open my mouth the line went dead. That wasn't the only thing as I soon realised that what the pensioner was trying to say was that her husband was dead. Feeling bad about it I tried my hardest from that moment on to be more careful with older people - They die more often.
With targets to beat and completed surveys to get the stress levels on a market research company call floor are usually pretty intense, but sometimes you speak to that odd gem that just takes it all away. Like one man whom I spoke to on a cold winter's evening a few years ago. After going through the same old introduction again with yet another faceless voice I got an odd response that soon made me prick up my ears and put down my doodling pen. The gruffly voiced gentleman on the other end asked a common question as to what incentive there was for him in all of this. Stating clearly that there was no prize draw for a Porsche or cash give-away I was met with the usual steely cold response. Thinking that he was about to hang up I tried one last time to ask him to complete the survey.
"You have a very sexy voice Abbey. Very seductive indeed. OK, I will do it. On one condition. Because I like your voice. I like to hear you talk. So carry on dear." Shocked I looked around. Involved with they're own workload no-one seemed to care that this older man may be praying on a college student. Doing my job I continued the seven-minute phone call without as much as a peep from the respondent apart from answering the questions of course, the odd grunt or pant for good measure being huffed down the phone from his end. What he was doing whilst I asked of his opinions on the war in Iraq I have no clue but I didn't want to ask. As we came to the end of the call I thanked him for his time and proceeded to end the conversation as quickly as possible. Not getting away easily he asked me a question I never expected.
"Can I have your number?" A slightly out of breath man asked. Panicking I gave him the company number.
"No. Can I have your number?" My admirer asked. Now bricking it I simply said that it was not company policy to give out individual personal details and again thanked him for his time, desperately hoping he would just go so I could go on break and laugh my tits off, hoping I never have to talk to him again. Silence was broken after a few after another frosty bit of dead-air. Finally the male hung up but not before thanking me for a very good evening indeed. Even sitting here now I can recall his final message - No No Abbey, Thank you. Thank you.
And so I slog it out, day-dreaming away the moment I can watch a sham-Vegas wedding between two drunks that have just met. Thoughts of cocktails, wild and messy nights out and a naughty American fling. Week after week for the next six-months I shall continue to work my fingers to the bone in order to afford a holiday of a lifetime. And as I sit at my desk I wonder to myself, how an earth would I be able to date with two jobs, an apartment, a hectic social life and a holiday to save for, not to even mention Christmas! But somehow I think that maybe there is something brewing. Something that is maybe a little closer to home. Something that has been under my nose the entire time ...
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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