It’s going … It’s going … Done for!
“Will we be observing a two minutes silence for him?” Joan asked with her eyebrows knotted in concern.
Bolton has come to a stand still as it buries its ‘favourite son’ Fred Dibnah. It’s not the first time he’s brought the town to gridlock – his bleedin’ traction engine made sure of that – but this time it is for his funeral procession. Shops have closed. People have lined the streets.
Not a bad showing for someone who knocked down chimneys for a living. He was Britain’s first ever ‘reality tv’ star, a pro-type Jade Goody if you will, and was probably the first and last time you’ll ever see the words ‘celebrity’ and ‘steeplejack’ put together.
At school, I was doing Fred impressions while everyone else was still doing Frank Spenser – I still get requests. Although we never met, I like to think I had an impact on his life as I once bumped into his wife Alison at the library. She was looking puzzled so I helped her to find the ‘feminist sociology’ section. Weeks later she divorced him saying he was an out-moded chauvinist who was living in the past. Who knows, if I’d shown her to the ‘canals and waterways’ section, the course of history may have been changed.
Life goes on. “Get back on the phones Joan.”
She tried the same last week for Arafat.
Call Centre Confidential is my diary as a Team Manager. Next stop Bombay (and back).
16 Nov 2004
15 Nov 2004
Baubling On
If you “press 1” for the Christmas catalogue, you are fast-forwarded to one of Martin’s team.
Martin and his ‘Youth Camp’ – sorry – ‘Team’ have put up decorations and flashing fairy lights around a ‘Team Score Board’ to get them in the mood.
HONK! Honk! HONK! Honk! Brenda was sat with Martin as they listened to a call together. Apparently a customer was complaining about a ‘Singing, Ringing Christmas Tree’ that was fluffing its lines and she played it down the phone to the adviser.
All the managers crowded around Martin’s desk to hear the tree sing: “Fart. The feral angels sing …”
You should hear its Frosty the Snowman.
If you “press 1” for the Christmas catalogue, you are fast-forwarded to one of Martin’s team.
Martin and his ‘Youth Camp’ – sorry – ‘Team’ have put up decorations and flashing fairy lights around a ‘Team Score Board’ to get them in the mood.
HONK! Honk! HONK! Honk! Brenda was sat with Martin as they listened to a call together. Apparently a customer was complaining about a ‘Singing, Ringing Christmas Tree’ that was fluffing its lines and she played it down the phone to the adviser.
All the managers crowded around Martin’s desk to hear the tree sing: “Fart. The feral angels sing …”
You should hear its Frosty the Snowman.
12 Nov 2004
English Language … the ultimate sacrifice
Another day. Another meeting.
Mary has summoned the managers together to deliver a presentation entitled “Mail Order and Distance Marketing Regulatory Requirements: New Initiatives for a New Millennium.”
Who could resist such a catchy title?
I could tell it was an important meeting because Bernard had ordered biscuits. He was snatching at them at intervals.
She took us through a whistle stop tour of a power point presentation and summed it up by saying, ”In short, I am adopting a holistic approach to the business synergies to ensure global, joined-up-thinking across the piece.”
We paused for two minutes silence …
Another day. Another meeting.
Mary has summoned the managers together to deliver a presentation entitled “Mail Order and Distance Marketing Regulatory Requirements: New Initiatives for a New Millennium.”
Who could resist such a catchy title?
I could tell it was an important meeting because Bernard had ordered biscuits. He was snatching at them at intervals.
She took us through a whistle stop tour of a power point presentation and summed it up by saying, ”In short, I am adopting a holistic approach to the business synergies to ensure global, joined-up-thinking across the piece.”
We paused for two minutes silence …
10 Nov 2004
Bin and Gone
Mary has descended. She is doing an audit on the office. There’re new regulations that she wants to impose and no doubt she’ll want to commit further crimes against the English language.
“What on earth is that doing in the middle of an office?” She pointed to a ‘Hygiene Bin for Sanitary Products’ that the Quandix team were selling to pubs and clubs up and down the country.
I explained to Mary, “It helps them focus apparently. We have a gnome as our mascot.”
I held up the gnome with blue-tac where its eyes once where.
She wasn’t looking. She wouldn’t take her eyes off the bin.
Perhaps I should hide the files in it?
Mary has descended. She is doing an audit on the office. There’re new regulations that she wants to impose and no doubt she’ll want to commit further crimes against the English language.
“What on earth is that doing in the middle of an office?” She pointed to a ‘Hygiene Bin for Sanitary Products’ that the Quandix team were selling to pubs and clubs up and down the country.
I explained to Mary, “It helps them focus apparently. We have a gnome as our mascot.”
I held up the gnome with blue-tac where its eyes once where.
She wasn’t looking. She wouldn’t take her eyes off the bin.
Perhaps I should hide the files in it?
9 Nov 2004
Mass Debate
I was in a meeting with Brenda, Martin, Ian and Janice today. Martin was humming “Spring Time for Hitler” as he sipped on a steaming cup of Bovril.
“Yep. Yep. Yep.” Ian was stroking his Yoda (circa Attack of the Clones) tie as he made yet another point of objection.
Janice, her eyes now so big she’s wearing goldfish bowls for contacts, was shifting her support from Ian to Martin.
Martin drained his ‘Best Boss in The World’ cup of its beefy liquid and started to get passionate, slamming the table, pointing furiously.
Janice moved to his side nodding, tight-lipped. Brenda interjected, urging compromise, her hands diplomatically trying to draw them together.
The smell of tuna and onion from Brenda mixed with Bovril was making me feel queasy and I was uncomfortable with the tension in the room when attention turned to me. They wanted me to have the casting decision, I said “Look. Does it really matter where we go on our Christmas do?”
I was in a meeting with Brenda, Martin, Ian and Janice today. Martin was humming “Spring Time for Hitler” as he sipped on a steaming cup of Bovril.
“Yep. Yep. Yep.” Ian was stroking his Yoda (circa Attack of the Clones) tie as he made yet another point of objection.
Janice, her eyes now so big she’s wearing goldfish bowls for contacts, was shifting her support from Ian to Martin.
Martin drained his ‘Best Boss in The World’ cup of its beefy liquid and started to get passionate, slamming the table, pointing furiously.
Janice moved to his side nodding, tight-lipped. Brenda interjected, urging compromise, her hands diplomatically trying to draw them together.
The smell of tuna and onion from Brenda mixed with Bovril was making me feel queasy and I was uncomfortable with the tension in the room when attention turned to me. They wanted me to have the casting decision, I said “Look. Does it really matter where we go on our Christmas do?”
8 Nov 2004
Box Room
To be honest, I’ve not really been able to take Brenda seriously since I saw her flossing her fanny with a feather boa on a works night out. She was going to be my coach and give me support, but she’s given up the ghost.
Like all the others, she is aware that the tectonic plates are moving and changes are about to take place and she wants to make sure she is not left behind. She has started to wear glasses and inspect the office every morning ticking a list on her clipboard.
“Why is there a cardboard box under every desk in your area?” She asked while peering above her glasses and breathing tuna and onion directly up my nostril.
I muttered and stumbled as I thought of an excuse. “I’ve recently conducted a work station review and discovered that my team needed foot rests. I thought that I’d save money by improvising.”
“Well done. Good idea. We need to do something. The stationery budget has doubled over the past month. Bernard has called in Mary to investigate.” She said (I think there may have been mayonnaise on her tuna and onion sandwich too.)
100 lever arch files – I must ask Thrush how e-bay works.
To be honest, I’ve not really been able to take Brenda seriously since I saw her flossing her fanny with a feather boa on a works night out. She was going to be my coach and give me support, but she’s given up the ghost.
Like all the others, she is aware that the tectonic plates are moving and changes are about to take place and she wants to make sure she is not left behind. She has started to wear glasses and inspect the office every morning ticking a list on her clipboard.
“Why is there a cardboard box under every desk in your area?” She asked while peering above her glasses and breathing tuna and onion directly up my nostril.
I muttered and stumbled as I thought of an excuse. “I’ve recently conducted a work station review and discovered that my team needed foot rests. I thought that I’d save money by improvising.”
“Well done. Good idea. We need to do something. The stationery budget has doubled over the past month. Bernard has called in Mary to investigate.” She said (I think there may have been mayonnaise on her tuna and onion sandwich too.)
100 lever arch files – I must ask Thrush how e-bay works.
4 Nov 2004
Karma Police – arrest this man
John Three, or Moomin Papa, exudes ‘bad vibes’. I don’t know what is wrong with him, but he’s been ‘on one’ for months now. I suppose I could ask him what’s the matter, but he might tell me and if he tells me, I’ll have to do something about it and I can’t be arsed. It’s not a management approach I’d advocate for everyone, but it works for me.
His glumness is spreading to the customers too.
I had to get my headset out of its velvet-lined box to actually speak to customer.
He was a screamer. He was so loud my headset muff rattled. He may have been schooled in my master-class, using a combination of aggression and tenacity, and had managed to see off three different levels of operators, however he had made a fundamental flaw: he’d phoned the wrong number.
He was complaining about the rising price of his electricity bill and try as I might I could not convince him that I couldn’t help him.
“I want compensation!” he screamed in a bizarre west-country accent. I wasn’t sure whether or not it was a wind up and I was being broadcast across Devon by an afternoon show on Cream Tea FM so I was cautious at first explaining that he would have to make a case for compensation. “I’ve been on this call for twenty minutes. My time is money.”
He’d spent twenty minutes asking for compensation so I could hardly compensate him for not getting compensation.
He insisted on speaking to the ‘organ-grinder’ and not the monkey. Bernard (busily grinding organs in his office) agreed to send fifty quid to the guy to avoid messing up his hair with a headset.
John Three seemed to make a careful note of the incident.
John Three, or Moomin Papa, exudes ‘bad vibes’. I don’t know what is wrong with him, but he’s been ‘on one’ for months now. I suppose I could ask him what’s the matter, but he might tell me and if he tells me, I’ll have to do something about it and I can’t be arsed. It’s not a management approach I’d advocate for everyone, but it works for me.
His glumness is spreading to the customers too.
I had to get my headset out of its velvet-lined box to actually speak to customer.
He was a screamer. He was so loud my headset muff rattled. He may have been schooled in my master-class, using a combination of aggression and tenacity, and had managed to see off three different levels of operators, however he had made a fundamental flaw: he’d phoned the wrong number.
He was complaining about the rising price of his electricity bill and try as I might I could not convince him that I couldn’t help him.
“I want compensation!” he screamed in a bizarre west-country accent. I wasn’t sure whether or not it was a wind up and I was being broadcast across Devon by an afternoon show on Cream Tea FM so I was cautious at first explaining that he would have to make a case for compensation. “I’ve been on this call for twenty minutes. My time is money.”
He’d spent twenty minutes asking for compensation so I could hardly compensate him for not getting compensation.
He insisted on speaking to the ‘organ-grinder’ and not the monkey. Bernard (busily grinding organs in his office) agreed to send fifty quid to the guy to avoid messing up his hair with a headset.
John Three seemed to make a careful note of the incident.
3 Nov 2004
Tic Tac Toe
When I returned from holiday, my desk was covered with boxes and boxes of stationery. In my bid to blow the budget I’d got carried away and ordered 10 packs of 10 Lever Arch Files rather than the 10 files I needed. I’ve missed the deadline for making a return so I now have a hundred files and nowhere to put them.
I’m beginning to suspect that my plan to dominate the Call Centre with my innovative use of stationery is beginning to fray at the edges. The white board that was painstakingly gridded with tape to display the team sales is now used for noughts and crosses competition.
“Do you think the republicans will win the election or will Kerry snatch it at the last minute?” John Doe asked as he put an X in the grid.
Barney, the Big Gay Bear, replied “Bush or snatch? Not much of a choice if you ask me.”
When I returned from holiday, my desk was covered with boxes and boxes of stationery. In my bid to blow the budget I’d got carried away and ordered 10 packs of 10 Lever Arch Files rather than the 10 files I needed. I’ve missed the deadline for making a return so I now have a hundred files and nowhere to put them.
I’m beginning to suspect that my plan to dominate the Call Centre with my innovative use of stationery is beginning to fray at the edges. The white board that was painstakingly gridded with tape to display the team sales is now used for noughts and crosses competition.
“Do you think the republicans will win the election or will Kerry snatch it at the last minute?” John Doe asked as he put an X in the grid.
Barney, the Big Gay Bear, replied “Bush or snatch? Not much of a choice if you ask me.”
2 Nov 2004
GBH
Word on the street is that John Three, aka Moomin Papa, has a beef with the Call Centre.
He's been silently fuming for weeks. I knew there was something wrong when he refused the Hear'say album he had won during the SELLATHON. "What use is that to me? I don't even have a gramaphone."
"What's a gramaphone sir?" Simon, the Craig David looky-likey, rescued me from the confrontation. The team went on to brainstorm redundant names for electrical products: Hifi, wireless, radiogram, Sinclair Spectrum etc.
Apparently John Three has saved the incident in a book that he aims to use to bring down the Call Centre. Who would think that Kym Marsh could cause such unrest?
Word on the street is that John Three, aka Moomin Papa, has a beef with the Call Centre.
He's been silently fuming for weeks. I knew there was something wrong when he refused the Hear'say album he had won during the SELLATHON. "What use is that to me? I don't even have a gramaphone."
"What's a gramaphone sir?" Simon, the Craig David looky-likey, rescued me from the confrontation. The team went on to brainstorm redundant names for electrical products: Hifi, wireless, radiogram, Sinclair Spectrum etc.
Apparently John Three has saved the incident in a book that he aims to use to bring down the Call Centre. Who would think that Kym Marsh could cause such unrest?
1 Nov 2004
Bouncing Check
Thanks for the comments while I was away; it’s pleasing that you don’t begrudge me a well-earned break.
I went to Prague, a beautiful city that has escaped the grip of an oppressive regime. Interestingly, and ironically, the museum of Communism is located next to a McDonalds, inside a casino. It tells the story of how enemies were vilified by relentless propaganda and of people forced to work in factories while they were under constant surveillance.
I switched on the call monitoring software and thanked goodness that there was no turning back.
Thanks for the comments while I was away; it’s pleasing that you don’t begrudge me a well-earned break.
I went to Prague, a beautiful city that has escaped the grip of an oppressive regime. Interestingly, and ironically, the museum of Communism is located next to a McDonalds, inside a casino. It tells the story of how enemies were vilified by relentless propaganda and of people forced to work in factories while they were under constant surveillance.
I switched on the call monitoring software and thanked goodness that there was no turning back.
22 Oct 2004
20 Oct 2004
Doing Lines
The gridding tape arrived. It’s not much good for wrapping Christmas presents so don’t bother putting an order in. It’s designed for drawing lines on white boards.
I asked John Doe to draw a table on our flip chart board so we could mark up the sales on the team. Big mistake.
“What are you doing?” I asked, “Its not the bleedin’ Sistine chapel!”
He was working with a protractor and a setsquare trying to get the lines dead straight. “I can’t believe it. It’s like a dogs’ back leg!”
It was about a millimetre adrift. Before I could say anything he pulled it off the board. He was caught up in a lattice of gridding tape like Spiderman had webbed him.
I can feel my ‘giving it up as a bad job’ senses tingling.
The gridding tape arrived. It’s not much good for wrapping Christmas presents so don’t bother putting an order in. It’s designed for drawing lines on white boards.
I asked John Doe to draw a table on our flip chart board so we could mark up the sales on the team. Big mistake.
“What are you doing?” I asked, “Its not the bleedin’ Sistine chapel!”
He was working with a protractor and a setsquare trying to get the lines dead straight. “I can’t believe it. It’s like a dogs’ back leg!”
It was about a millimetre adrift. Before I could say anything he pulled it off the board. He was caught up in a lattice of gridding tape like Spiderman had webbed him.
I can feel my ‘giving it up as a bad job’ senses tingling.
15 Oct 2004
Pen is from Heaven
The little sticks of Stabilo heaven have arrived! (they are actually 'Niceday' copies)
The first stage of my bid for world domination starts today. Watch out Poland here I come.
I've tested them and they work perfectly, apart from the red. Red? Red. Who thought red was going to be a good idea? A black one is as much use as a red one as it obliterates anything it highlights.
I've ordered some 'gridding tape': not sure what it is, but it sounds useful.
Outspan, the Quandix sun-bed king was impressed, "What a nice shade of orange."
I can see a request going into 'Tantastic' this weekend: "Turn it up to 11 love. I'm going NICEDAY!"
The little sticks of Stabilo heaven have arrived! (they are actually 'Niceday' copies)
The first stage of my bid for world domination starts today. Watch out Poland here I come.
I've tested them and they work perfectly, apart from the red. Red? Red. Who thought red was going to be a good idea? A black one is as much use as a red one as it obliterates anything it highlights.
I've ordered some 'gridding tape': not sure what it is, but it sounds useful.
Outspan, the Quandix sun-bed king was impressed, "What a nice shade of orange."
I can see a request going into 'Tantastic' this weekend: "Turn it up to 11 love. I'm going NICEDAY!"
13 Oct 2004
Sadam’s Stock Clearance
‘The Catalogue That Cannot Be Named’ (for keeping my job reasons) has launched its ‘All New’ Autumn Catalogue.
‘The Weapon of Dirt Extraction’ caught my eye, but it turned out to be a power-washer.
It’s pleasing that they are continuing their bid for papal beatification by extending their ‘miracle’ product range. There’s a ‘miracle’ ‘No Nails Coat Hook’ but still no sign of a cure for leprosy. Perhaps they are waiting for spring.
Estimated time of arrival for the highligher pens: two days
‘The Catalogue That Cannot Be Named’ (for keeping my job reasons) has launched its ‘All New’ Autumn Catalogue.
‘The Weapon of Dirt Extraction’ caught my eye, but it turned out to be a power-washer.
It’s pleasing that they are continuing their bid for papal beatification by extending their ‘miracle’ product range. There’s a ‘miracle’ ‘No Nails Coat Hook’ but still no sign of a cure for leprosy. Perhaps they are waiting for spring.
Estimated time of arrival for the highligher pens: two days
11 Oct 2004
Muck and Bullets
The turf war between the Team Managers has transformed the Call Centre into ‘Bedlam, with florescent lighting’.
In one corner there’s Martin (the modern day Robert Owen) whose team is a cooperative based on selling, hard work and self enforced fun. They are almost entirely self-sufficient and peer down their noses at everyone else.
Janice has new contact lenses that make her more severe than ever before. Her team of drones plug themselves into the consensual reality as soon as they walk through the door and don’t twitch until they leave. It’s not so much ‘The Matrix’ than ‘The Mattress’. The only sound is Bess sucking on her teeth.
Ian has a team of temps who are working on … I’m not really sure what they do, apart from wear cropped tops and leggings. Ian strokes his tie and whispers “ding dong” as they reveal their tiny tattoos.
Meanwhile, the nkotb, Quandix, the team who were in-sourced to work on the new outsourced campaign (taking orders for sanitary bins), run their team like they’re galley slaves. I get tired watching them. Johnny Knucklehead wanders through the team and waves his arms at Outspan like the bastard child of John Mcerrick and John McVicar, on speed, while Outspan puts down the scores on a flip chart.
In all the excitement I put in an order for highlighter pens from stationery. I've got some big ideas.
The turf war between the Team Managers has transformed the Call Centre into ‘Bedlam, with florescent lighting’.
In one corner there’s Martin (the modern day Robert Owen) whose team is a cooperative based on selling, hard work and self enforced fun. They are almost entirely self-sufficient and peer down their noses at everyone else.
Janice has new contact lenses that make her more severe than ever before. Her team of drones plug themselves into the consensual reality as soon as they walk through the door and don’t twitch until they leave. It’s not so much ‘The Matrix’ than ‘The Mattress’. The only sound is Bess sucking on her teeth.
Ian has a team of temps who are working on … I’m not really sure what they do, apart from wear cropped tops and leggings. Ian strokes his tie and whispers “ding dong” as they reveal their tiny tattoos.
Meanwhile, the nkotb, Quandix, the team who were in-sourced to work on the new outsourced campaign (taking orders for sanitary bins), run their team like they’re galley slaves. I get tired watching them. Johnny Knucklehead wanders through the team and waves his arms at Outspan like the bastard child of John Mcerrick and John McVicar, on speed, while Outspan puts down the scores on a flip chart.
In all the excitement I put in an order for highlighter pens from stationery. I've got some big ideas.
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