Work As Hell, Part 3

Here's the third part of my essay, "Life in the Call Center Generation." I hope you're enjoying it.

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Soon, it was the last day of our second week, and the first day we were on the phones full-time. It began awkwardly enough, with a conversation between a deaf Polish immigrant who was trying to verify the time of his wife’s AA meeting, and a surly ex-drunk who had never had a TTY call before.

We were given a page of instructions to read to the TTY virgins, but it usually only succeeded in angering and confusing them even more. Most people would eventually get the hang of it, while others seemed to understand it less and less as the call went on, saying things like, “What is this you’re doing? Why can’t they just talk to me?”

The man the immigrant was calling fell into the latter category. Of course, it didn’t help that after the caller obtained the information he had requested, he kept repeating how his wife’s drinking made he and their children cry, and how AA would truly be a blessing in their lives.

“Yeah, are we done now?” the AA man said. “I don’t have time to listen to this.”

“I cannot get involved in the call, sir,” I chirped, surprised that I remembered the response we’d learned in class.

“I’m gonna listen to this crap two hours tonight, I’ve gotta listen to it now, too?” he said.

The immigrant continued the monologue about how his family would get back on its feet, and that now his wife was going to AA, nothing was going to stop them.

“Yeah, okay, bye then,” the AA man said curtly, and hung up.

My next call was probably one of the three or four worst I ever had. I won’t go into specifics, other than to say that it involved a child molestation case and an inconsolable social worker. I could have used a stiff dink after the two parties hung up, had I not just previously heard how my family would be irreparably damaged by it.

That afternoon, my class graduated. They gave us cake and poorly-designed “diplomas” and said they were looking forward to having us at the company for years to come.

Two weeks later, there were only three of us left.

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The saga continues tomorrow. Thanks for stopping by.

- TJG