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So, been taking my sweet time about posting two particular stories from my job prior to this one (I answered phones for a paging service; now, I schedule service to repair signs - and very rarely have to deal with customers anymore, hallelujah). Reason for taking my time is I was trying to get everything straight in my head about both of these calls.
I'm not lying when I say they were the worst calls, the worst customers (though they weren't quite customers) that it has ever been my displeasure to deal with in my entire lift.
The first one (and I'm hoping I'll have time to post the second later on) requires a little bit of background. I mostly worked the overnight at this paging service. We'd take the odd call for a solicitors office (I so wanted to ask every one of them how they'd screwed up and gotten slammed in a jail cell, but alas, it was more than my job was worth), very few personal pages, and the phone line that rang the most, 24/7 was the lift (I'm still not used to calling them elevators, my wife always gives me a hard time about that) emergency lines.
There was the usual "my lift is down, fix it, fix it nooooooow" type calls, upon which we would tell people we would dispatch a tech tomorrow as it's not an emergency. Some of you know what that's like. Then there would be the marginally more serious "I'm stuck in the lift" calls, of which I'd get, oh, 4-5 a night, over 4 different companies? Those would require a tech to go out, immediately.
(By the way, this was Ireland. Small country. 4-5 lift emergencies a night? This is why I don't like the metal coffins.)
The phone numbers called went to the lift company, and was transfered over to us, which would result in the phone number showing up on Caller ID being that of the lift company. I swear, all of this blather is actually relevant.
One night, I pick up the phone, and get what I can only describe now that it's over, as the torture of many weeks.
Me: Whee!
YG: Young Girl. I wish I could give her a more creative name, but that would ruin the surprise.
Me: [Lift Company] Ireland, this is Dilorenzo, how can I help you? (please be a broken lift please be a broken lift, ah come on, I want to watch the end of Justice League, I love this one!)
YG: Hello?
Me: Yes hello, how can I help you? (Why is a four year old calling me at 4 in the morning? Why would you do this to me and the Justice League, lord?)
Ok, enough with the comedy, because around about here it stopped being funny, to me at the time. Seriously, I did want to watch the end of Justice League though...
YG: You know my mommy?
Me: (irriated by this point - but it doesn't take much) No, sorry, I don't. Shouldn't you be asleep?
YG: I want to talk to my mommy.
(None of my coworkers has a kid, and I work the night shift alone)
Me: Your mommy isn't here. Is she not there? Is your daddy there?
YG: No, I'm here alone.
Me: No babysitter? Noone?
YG: No
Long story short, this has me worried. I try to get some sort of info, anything - the cell number, the street she lives in, what area of the country, anything. But this kid, she sounds about 3, 4 years old. Got that cute little girl voice, the one you can barely bloody well understand, but is so adorable. So I get nothing, no info, nothing from her. Calls start coming in, emergencies that I get paid to deal with, so I have to deal with them.
That may sound cold, and heartless, but put yourself in my place for a moment. Until [Lift Company] opened in the morning and could look over their logs of who called, there was nothing I could do. I think I lulled her to sleep - or at least tried - before hanging up. I felt terrible, but I couldn't do a damn thing - a thought which would haunt me to this very day had I not found out what I did. But, that's getting ahead of myself.
She called in a few more times that night. Each time I tried to get more info out of her, and each time I failed.
I waited for my boss, and owner of the company to get in, explained to them what had gone on. Told them to get in touch with [Lift Company], see if they could get the number, get it to the right authorities so something could be done, or at least the problem looked into.
Now, my bosses were awesome. And they sure as hell tried. For one thing, this little girl calling in, possibly entirely on her own, could be in trouble. For another, it was tying up their only night op on calls when he had work to do. Hey, it was a business.
[Lift Company] said they'd look into it, and promptly forgot about it, thank you very much.
So, every night I was on, I got the calls from the little girl. For two weeks.
I don't know if the other night ops got any, as one I didn't like talking to much, and the other, it transpired, was climbing out the window at night, going to the pub til closing, leaving the phones completely unattended. That's another rant entirely, though...
For two weeks, the little girl called, and I think I started to lose my mind a little. Then, all of a sudden, the calls stopped. No explanation, no news - nothing. Everything just stopped.
Then, three weeks later, I get an explanation. My cool boss takes me aside and explains what happened.
CB: D, we found out what happened with the night caller.
Me: Yeah?
CB:Yeah, turns out she called one of the operators at [Lift Company] during the day, and they followed up on it pretty quick...
(Ok, so I'd be lying had I said I wasn't a little nervous 'bout what they were going to have found)
CB: They got the police involved, found out it was an 80 year old woman in a home. She's not even supposed to have a phone.
Thankfully, we were in his office, and he didn't mind me venting. Vent I did, with a veritable stream of blue air escaping my lips.
An 80 year old woman, who isn't supposed to have a phone, because this is not the first time she has, essentially, harrassed people over the phone, was given a goddamn phone by her daughter.
I can't hate the old woman that much - maybe she was lonely. Maybe she really thought she was four again?
But the daughter? Woman, I ever find you, and I'm going Justice League on your ass.
I'm not lying when I say they were the worst calls, the worst customers (though they weren't quite customers) that it has ever been my displeasure to deal with in my entire lift.
The first one (and I'm hoping I'll have time to post the second later on) requires a little bit of background. I mostly worked the overnight at this paging service. We'd take the odd call for a solicitors office (I so wanted to ask every one of them how they'd screwed up and gotten slammed in a jail cell, but alas, it was more than my job was worth), very few personal pages, and the phone line that rang the most, 24/7 was the lift (I'm still not used to calling them elevators, my wife always gives me a hard time about that) emergency lines.
There was the usual "my lift is down, fix it, fix it nooooooow" type calls, upon which we would tell people we would dispatch a tech tomorrow as it's not an emergency. Some of you know what that's like. Then there would be the marginally more serious "I'm stuck in the lift" calls, of which I'd get, oh, 4-5 a night, over 4 different companies? Those would require a tech to go out, immediately.
(By the way, this was Ireland. Small country. 4-5 lift emergencies a night? This is why I don't like the metal coffins.)
The phone numbers called went to the lift company, and was transfered over to us, which would result in the phone number showing up on Caller ID being that of the lift company. I swear, all of this blather is actually relevant.
One night, I pick up the phone, and get what I can only describe now that it's over, as the torture of many weeks.
Me: Whee!
YG: Young Girl. I wish I could give her a more creative name, but that would ruin the surprise.
Me: [Lift Company] Ireland, this is Dilorenzo, how can I help you? (please be a broken lift please be a broken lift, ah come on, I want to watch the end of Justice League, I love this one!)
YG: Hello?
Me: Yes hello, how can I help you? (Why is a four year old calling me at 4 in the morning? Why would you do this to me and the Justice League, lord?)
Ok, enough with the comedy, because around about here it stopped being funny, to me at the time. Seriously, I did want to watch the end of Justice League though...
YG: You know my mommy?
Me: (irriated by this point - but it doesn't take much) No, sorry, I don't. Shouldn't you be asleep?
YG: I want to talk to my mommy.
(None of my coworkers has a kid, and I work the night shift alone)
Me: Your mommy isn't here. Is she not there? Is your daddy there?
YG: No, I'm here alone.
Me: No babysitter? Noone?
YG: No
Long story short, this has me worried. I try to get some sort of info, anything - the cell number, the street she lives in, what area of the country, anything. But this kid, she sounds about 3, 4 years old. Got that cute little girl voice, the one you can barely bloody well understand, but is so adorable. So I get nothing, no info, nothing from her. Calls start coming in, emergencies that I get paid to deal with, so I have to deal with them.
That may sound cold, and heartless, but put yourself in my place for a moment. Until [Lift Company] opened in the morning and could look over their logs of who called, there was nothing I could do. I think I lulled her to sleep - or at least tried - before hanging up. I felt terrible, but I couldn't do a damn thing - a thought which would haunt me to this very day had I not found out what I did. But, that's getting ahead of myself.
She called in a few more times that night. Each time I tried to get more info out of her, and each time I failed.
I waited for my boss, and owner of the company to get in, explained to them what had gone on. Told them to get in touch with [Lift Company], see if they could get the number, get it to the right authorities so something could be done, or at least the problem looked into.
Now, my bosses were awesome. And they sure as hell tried. For one thing, this little girl calling in, possibly entirely on her own, could be in trouble. For another, it was tying up their only night op on calls when he had work to do. Hey, it was a business.
[Lift Company] said they'd look into it, and promptly forgot about it, thank you very much.
So, every night I was on, I got the calls from the little girl. For two weeks.
I don't know if the other night ops got any, as one I didn't like talking to much, and the other, it transpired, was climbing out the window at night, going to the pub til closing, leaving the phones completely unattended. That's another rant entirely, though...
For two weeks, the little girl called, and I think I started to lose my mind a little. Then, all of a sudden, the calls stopped. No explanation, no news - nothing. Everything just stopped.
Then, three weeks later, I get an explanation. My cool boss takes me aside and explains what happened.
CB: D, we found out what happened with the night caller.
Me: Yeah?
CB:Yeah, turns out she called one of the operators at [Lift Company] during the day, and they followed up on it pretty quick...
(Ok, so I'd be lying had I said I wasn't a little nervous 'bout what they were going to have found)
CB: They got the police involved, found out it was an 80 year old woman in a home. She's not even supposed to have a phone.
Thankfully, we were in his office, and he didn't mind me venting. Vent I did, with a veritable stream of blue air escaping my lips.
An 80 year old woman, who isn't supposed to have a phone, because this is not the first time she has, essentially, harrassed people over the phone, was given a goddamn phone by her daughter.
I can't hate the old woman that much - maybe she was lonely. Maybe she really thought she was four again?
But the daughter? Woman, I ever find you, and I'm going Justice League on your ass.
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