From Monday until Friday, I had this horrible, God-awful, thought-my-head-was-going-to-explode type of headache. I was half-convinced that I had a brain tumor. ("It's not a tumor!") Can we just stop for a moment and imagine wearing a headset all day long with a pounding headache? Talk about pain, man. It felt like my head was in a vice and then I was in my own personal hell, which involves angry people calling in asking why their APR is so high (Pay your bill, moron and we won't raise your APR.), how their balance got so high (Quit buying Starbucks with your business card! Coffee is not an office supply!! PS: We cannot dispute your charges at the local strip club because your card was swiped there and you signed the receipt. I don't care if your wife is going to be pissed.), or crazy women tell me to be "silent". Okay, okay, the woman who yelled at me to be "silent!" was last week, but whatever...Just thinking about it makes my head hurt.
So, please, imagine settling in at work and taking 40-50 calls with a pounding headache. By Thursday, I could barely remember my own name, let alone remember how to do my job. In the midst of what I shall call, "The Worst Headache of My Life," I made a few mistakes at work. I won't take full responsibility for these though...I mean, if I'm trying to give you information and you cut me off, then it's your problem too. For instance, if you're calling in to make a payment, you might want to let me tell you which account I have on file before saying, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, that one! Just make the payment." Because as I said to you on the phone, "Payments processed today cannot be changed. Is it still okay for me to proceed?" I wasn't kidding. I don't make this shit up. I also don't make up the rules about how you can pay by phone or computer once every 24 hours. That's once. Every 24 hours. And no, I cannot stop that payment I just processed because then you ask what the account number was and realize that's your old account that's closed. I tried to ask and I was cut off. Now, it's on you too.
Of course, luck would have it that shortly after this fiasco, I would get the call transferred to me to take a payment from another guy. I thought to myself, "Double check everything!" I wasn't going to be bitched at again...I feared if I was that my head would, quite literally, explode. So, the guy comes on the line and says, "I need to make a payment." Me, "I'd be more than happy to help with that. How's your day going, sir?" Him- "Great. You?" Me- "Great. Thanks for asking." I confirm the account we're taking the funds from and then ask, "And how much are we paying today?" I hadn't looked at his balance and I was seriously thinking I had a brain tumor at this point in time. I noticed my vision was getting a little blurry in my right eye, but only in one little spot. In the midst of my wondering about my tumor, which was probably pulsating and growing by the moment, he responds, "750,000." Snapping me back to reality, I said, "I'm sorry, sir, I think I missed that. How much?" He repeats himself. I then, with a shaky hand, type in 3/4 of a million bucks. I briefly fantasized about what that much money looks like and wondered how it would feel to spend that much money. Then I counted the zeros to make sure I had the right amount before I asked, "750,000?" He said, "Yes." I could hear him typing in the background, obviously busy. What if this was wrong? I couldn't stop the $50 payment earlier; I sure as hell couldn't stop the $750,000 payment!! I didn't want to click proceed. I think I confirmed a few more times before finally putting it through. I have to admit, I felt a little nauseous.
I've talked to our most prized customers before, with the elite card that one can only get if we invite you to have it. Yes, the owners of the titanium cards. (I am not mentioning these things by name because I need my job. *grins*) And I've seen the way they spend money, but I've never taken a payment for so much money. In the end, I made it for the right amount. As for our "elite" customers, I had one call in and ask about recent charges. This person spent thousands of dollars in one night at a few different restaurants and clubs. I mean, we're talking more money than Phoenix and I make in a couple of months. I thought to myself, "I wish I had money to blow like that...Hell, I just wish I had money." Of course, I can't even sell anything to these people!!
Half of my job is to try to sell people new card products and I can't even do that. People shoot me down right and left. They shoot me down forwards and backwards too. The only sales I've gotten were basically handed to me. Sometimes, I kind of influence the people, but not usually. And do you think I could sell some measly little product to these people who blow my monthly income on lunch on a Tuesday afternoon? HELL NO! Luckily, I get paid a salary and sales are a bonus...
In the end, after being yelled at by people who hate me because I am the bearer of bad news, I called it an early day on Thursday morning. I came home and slept for a while, which mostly made the headache go away. By Friday, mid-morning, the headache had left for the most part. It was a dull ache, but was on its way out. For that, I was happy. I couldn't have handled one more day of it without going postal.
On a side note, the woman who yelled at me, "SILENT!" was a crack up. She called last week, complaining that her current statement didn't show some credits that were due to her. I said I would look into it and asked if I could put her on hold. She refused to be put on hold, so I muted the call while I searched her account for what was happening. She seemed to think I would've been up to no good had I put her on hold. I'm not sure what people think happens when we put them on hold, but I'll tell you that it's not "party time". We don't all put our customers on hold, jump out of our seats, and join a Conga Line around the cubicles. I don't know why, but the credits came in after the statement was cycled instead of right away. This isn't something I control, but she apparently thought so. (I swear, I wasn't out the week before drinking margaritas with co-workers to figure out how to mess with this woman! It was Long Island Ice Teas! *grins*) So, I told her where the credits were and that they'd be on the next statement. She then wanted to see if they were online because she hadn't been able to see them two days before. I said, "They should be. They posted yesterday." To which she replied, "I looked two days ago! They weren't there!" I then reiterated because they had been posted the previous day and not two days before. She said she was going to look right then and that since she had waited for me, I could wait for her...SILENTLY! I'm not kidding. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried. She seriously told me, "Silent!" when I tried to say, "Okay." My trainer said she would've started clearing her throat or coughing, just to mess with the woman. I, instead, physically bit my tongue so that I didn't tell her what she could do to herself and then where she could go when she was finished. Use your imagination. She then, after a few minutes of furious typing and clicking, which made me happy I wasn't her computer, hissed, "I see them now!" And then slammed down the phone. I love my job. *straight face* I do...
My mom told me that people seem to hold on to so much stress and crap that happens in their lives and eventually, they need to, for lack of a better term, download their shit onto others. For instance, if I were at the grocery store and accidentally bumped another woman's cart, then she might normally say, "Whoa! Traffic jam!" or some lame thing like that and then walk away as though nothing happened as I call out, "Sorry!" However, on this day, I bump her and she turns around and unleashes the beast on me. "What the hell is your problem, moron!? What's the hurry, fat ass, is there a sale on Ben and Jerry's?" And so on. What I don't know is that her father passed away the week before and she's trying to finish up the final plans for his funeral, her husband appears to be having an affair with the neighborhood whore, her flower shop is barely staying afloat in this horrible economy, and she suspects her oldest daughter might be a lesbian. Plus, only an hour before I ran into her, a 16-year old blonde bimbo was driving down the road, rocking out to the latest Britney/Christina/Taylor Swift song, sexting her boyfriend and totally side-swiped this poor woman as she dropped her daughter (the lesbian) off at the girl's house who this woman thinks the girl is fooling around with. So, her late model Volvo station Wagon has a scrape down the side and the driver's side mirror is barely hanging on by a small wire. So, here I come, and bump into her and I get all this shit she's bottled up for a while now. And it wasn't even my fault. My cart had a wheel that keeps sticking and I was trying to make a normal turn, but the cart had a mind of its own and sent me careening into her. Yet, I am the one who gets the shit for my mistake, all because I didn't grab a better cart outside. And thus is a long-winded explanation of why my job sucks balls...I am on the receiving end of all that is bothering people...But I love my job. I do. *straight face, downs a shot of Jack* I promise.
God help the fool who gets in my way when I need to unleash my beast...*grins wickedly*
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