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I have read many stories on here about heelies from bitter grocery store workers. but as I work on the phone, I had never encountered them until tonight.
I was headed to the breakroom just before my shift started to get some tea. As I walked through the corridoor between cubicles, I look up to see a huge, over six feet, 250 pound male who was maybe all of 17 years old, gliding quickly toward me on wheeled tennis shoes, taking up the entire corridoor. He looks up to see me, and tries valiantly to stop, but is unsuccessful. I was forced to throw myself against the wall to avoid him as he came crashing down at my feet. This happened right in front of a lead desk. The lead stands up, looks over his half wall, and says "Dude! DO NOT be using your heelies in here! Now get your ass up and get back to your phone!"
I could have kissed him. One thing about the leads on the main floor: they do not put up with bullshit. From anyone.
On to the calls!
I get no respect.
Me: Thank you for calling Bugaboo cell phones, my name is TPG, my rep id is---
SC: Aw, fuck this shit! *click*
Me: *mute* Okay, fine. Don't take my abuse.
Me: Thank you for calling Bugaboo cell phones, my name is TPG, my rep id is---
SC: No! No no no no no!
Me: ...I'm sorry?
SC: No! I will not speak to you people again! No no no! *click*
Me: *mute* Okay, but you won't get your minutes either.
Me: Thank you for calling Bugaboo cell phones, my name is TPG, my rep id is---
SC: Argghhh! Not YOU people again! *click*
Me: *mute* Resistance Is Futile. You Will Be Assimilated!
What is the definition of insanity again?
Me: Ma'am, to complete this order I just need to call your bank and have them verify some information with you, all right?
SC: Ok.
Me: *Call the bank only to be told this this is an ATM card, not a debit card.* I'm sorry, Ma'am, this is an ATM card, not a debit card.
SC: Yeah, and?
Me: Ma'am, we cannot accept this card for payment. You need to use either a debit or a credit card.
SC: Yes you can!
Me: No, Ma'am, we cannot. Your bank does not allow this card to be used as a debit card.
SC: Well why not?!
Me: I don't know Ma'am, you'd need to take that up with your bank.
So I cancel the order. And five minutes later, another order comes through. Same name, same phone, different card. But it is still coming up as "unknown card type". So I call the bank only to be told that this card, as well, is an ATM card. No debit/credit allowed. So I call her, inform her again, and cancel it.
But that is not the end! Oh no, if it was she wouldn't be here on our board of shame. For 25 minutes later, she pops up again in the new orders, with the same card as the first time. I got to call and tell her yet again, that we could not use the card. This time she tried to argue with me.
SC: You HAVE to take it!
Me: No Ma'am, I am not allowed to take the card as payment. It is not a debit card. This card is only good at an ATM.
SC: Well what's the difference?
Me: The difference is your bank has issued this card without the ability to be used as a debit card. If you want to use a debit card with us, go down to your bank and have them issue you one.
SC: They won't give me one! So how am I supposed to put minutes on my phone!
Me: You could purchase a prepaid card from a convenience store, or you could stop into any Bugaboo store to get minutes.
SC: That takes too long. So you're telling me there's nothing I can do to get minutes on my phone?!
Me: Not with that card, Ma'am.
SC: *long, drawn out dramatic sigh* You people SUCK ASS! *click*
At least I know the definition of insanity.
The Nihilist.
Me: To complete this order I need to verify your identity as the authorized signer for this credit card, all right?
SC: Yeah. whatever.
Me: Hold on for one moment while I call your bank. *call bank, bring rep on line.* Sir, I have a representative from your bank on the line, and she is going to verify some info with you, all right?
SC: Whatever.
Bank rep: Hello, sir, my name is Angel and I am with McGreedy Bank. Can I get your name please?
SC: Whatever.
Bank rep: I'm sorry?
SC: I said whatever. The name is Apathetic Johnny.
Bank rep: All right, sir, could I get the billing address for your debit card?
SC: No.
Bank rep: ...
SC: ...
Me:
Bank rep: ...Hello?
SC: Yeah?
Bank rep: Could I get your billing address please.
SC: I don't know.
Bank rep: You don't know your billing address?
SC: No, I don't.
Bank rep: I'm sorry, sir, without this information I am not able to verify you for this card.
SC: Whatever. *click*
The bank rep and I were both totally by this. We commisserated for a moment before disconnecting.
Ridiculous lady: You know, many, many of my customers use the R word with me. I hear it all night long. But you, ridiculous lady, take the cake. You used it no less than 27 times during an 11 minute rant on my phone. I know, I counted. This whole thing is ‘ridiculous’ and the wait you have to go through is ‘ridiculous’ and our customer service skills are ‘ridiculous’ and our security procedures are completely ‘ridiculous’ and our company is ‘ridiculous’ and on and on and on and on and on. You have broken a new record, but alas, I still have no respect for you. Guinness Book of World Records is not interested in your record. Our corporate office is not interested in your complaint. The newspapers are not interested in our ‘ridiculous’ behavior. Your horror at the inconvenience we have perpetrated on you is, I am sorry to say, waaaay out of proportion for the situation. No one is interested in your tale of woe. In short, get a life, ridiculous lady, because yours is obviously trite and boring if this is the highlight of your day.
I was headed to the breakroom just before my shift started to get some tea. As I walked through the corridoor between cubicles, I look up to see a huge, over six feet, 250 pound male who was maybe all of 17 years old, gliding quickly toward me on wheeled tennis shoes, taking up the entire corridoor. He looks up to see me, and tries valiantly to stop, but is unsuccessful. I was forced to throw myself against the wall to avoid him as he came crashing down at my feet. This happened right in front of a lead desk. The lead stands up, looks over his half wall, and says "Dude! DO NOT be using your heelies in here! Now get your ass up and get back to your phone!"
I could have kissed him. One thing about the leads on the main floor: they do not put up with bullshit. From anyone.
On to the calls!
I get no respect.
Me: Thank you for calling Bugaboo cell phones, my name is TPG, my rep id is---
SC: Aw, fuck this shit! *click*
Me: *mute* Okay, fine. Don't take my abuse.
Me: Thank you for calling Bugaboo cell phones, my name is TPG, my rep id is---
SC: No! No no no no no!
Me: ...I'm sorry?
SC: No! I will not speak to you people again! No no no! *click*
Me: *mute* Okay, but you won't get your minutes either.
Me: Thank you for calling Bugaboo cell phones, my name is TPG, my rep id is---
SC: Argghhh! Not YOU people again! *click*
Me: *mute* Resistance Is Futile. You Will Be Assimilated!
What is the definition of insanity again?
Me: Ma'am, to complete this order I just need to call your bank and have them verify some information with you, all right?
SC: Ok.
Me: *Call the bank only to be told this this is an ATM card, not a debit card.* I'm sorry, Ma'am, this is an ATM card, not a debit card.
SC: Yeah, and?
Me: Ma'am, we cannot accept this card for payment. You need to use either a debit or a credit card.
SC: Yes you can!
Me: No, Ma'am, we cannot. Your bank does not allow this card to be used as a debit card.
SC: Well why not?!
Me: I don't know Ma'am, you'd need to take that up with your bank.
So I cancel the order. And five minutes later, another order comes through. Same name, same phone, different card. But it is still coming up as "unknown card type". So I call the bank only to be told that this card, as well, is an ATM card. No debit/credit allowed. So I call her, inform her again, and cancel it.
But that is not the end! Oh no, if it was she wouldn't be here on our board of shame. For 25 minutes later, she pops up again in the new orders, with the same card as the first time. I got to call and tell her yet again, that we could not use the card. This time she tried to argue with me.
SC: You HAVE to take it!
Me: No Ma'am, I am not allowed to take the card as payment. It is not a debit card. This card is only good at an ATM.
SC: Well what's the difference?
Me: The difference is your bank has issued this card without the ability to be used as a debit card. If you want to use a debit card with us, go down to your bank and have them issue you one.
SC: They won't give me one! So how am I supposed to put minutes on my phone!
Me: You could purchase a prepaid card from a convenience store, or you could stop into any Bugaboo store to get minutes.
SC: That takes too long. So you're telling me there's nothing I can do to get minutes on my phone?!
Me: Not with that card, Ma'am.
SC: *long, drawn out dramatic sigh* You people SUCK ASS! *click*
At least I know the definition of insanity.
The Nihilist.
Me: To complete this order I need to verify your identity as the authorized signer for this credit card, all right?
SC: Yeah. whatever.
Me: Hold on for one moment while I call your bank. *call bank, bring rep on line.* Sir, I have a representative from your bank on the line, and she is going to verify some info with you, all right?
SC: Whatever.
Bank rep: Hello, sir, my name is Angel and I am with McGreedy Bank. Can I get your name please?
SC: Whatever.
Bank rep: I'm sorry?
SC: I said whatever. The name is Apathetic Johnny.
Bank rep: All right, sir, could I get the billing address for your debit card?
SC: No.
Bank rep: ...
SC: ...
Me:
Bank rep: ...Hello?
SC: Yeah?
Bank rep: Could I get your billing address please.
SC: I don't know.
Bank rep: You don't know your billing address?
SC: No, I don't.
Bank rep: I'm sorry, sir, without this information I am not able to verify you for this card.
SC: Whatever. *click*
The bank rep and I were both totally
by this. We commisserated for a moment before disconnecting.Ridiculous lady: You know, many, many of my customers use the R word with me. I hear it all night long. But you, ridiculous lady, take the cake. You used it no less than 27 times during an 11 minute rant on my phone. I know, I counted. This whole thing is ‘ridiculous’ and the wait you have to go through is ‘ridiculous’ and our customer service skills are ‘ridiculous’ and our security procedures are completely ‘ridiculous’ and our company is ‘ridiculous’ and on and on and on and on and on. You have broken a new record, but alas, I still have no respect for you. Guinness Book of World Records is not interested in your record. Our corporate office is not interested in your complaint. The newspapers are not interested in our ‘ridiculous’ behavior. Your horror at the inconvenience we have perpetrated on you is, I am sorry to say, waaaay out of proportion for the situation. No one is interested in your tale of woe. In short, get a life, ridiculous lady, because yours is obviously trite and boring if this is the highlight of your day.
How's that?
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