Hello, and welcome. If you are just here at random, please feel free to poke around and see if anything catches your interest. If you are here in response to my ad for bandmates, you will find MP3s and lyrics in the "Writing On the Wall" section, linked to your left. If you listen and like what you hear, and/or enjoy any of the words, then drop me a line or give me a call, and let's jam.
If not ... um ... sorry about that!
Below is the usual rant, updated with the utmost irregularity. Enjoy!
Familiarity Breeds Contempt, or The 'Joys' of Customer Service
July 31, 2004
My name is John, and I work in customer service.
Yes, that's right, it's an addiction, a disease. I don't seem to be able to give it up. It just goes on and on, and as in the movie "Office Space", job security seems more important than happiness.
But the more it goes on, the worse I feel about people in general. And that's not good.
There seems to be a standard progression for how this happens. In fact, I have developed a timeline to gauge those of us who are lucky enough to work with the public:
1) Average person with more-or-less standard faith in other humans + 1 year in customer service
This person is a bitterly humorous cynic who cracks up his/her friends and co-workers with stories of customer stupidity, but is mostly able to let it go at 5 o'clock.
2) A.P.W.M.O.L.S.F.I.O.H. + 2 years in customer service
Now we have a misanthrope concealing real dislike of humanity in general behind a rapidly disintegrating facade of humor. Tendency to say things like, "I really need to get out of this job" begins to cause comment. Nervous tics and twitches may be noticed. Coffee consumption at work reaches dangerous levels, and absenteeism is in the ascendant, largely because the coffee at work is an attempt to counterbalance increased consumption of alcohol elsewhere. The employee may develop a habit of staring beligerently at users of cell phones in public places and muttering rude comments.
3) A.P.W.M.O.L.S.F.I.O.H. + 3 years in customer service
At this point, the subject is a borderline alcoholic/depressive whose dislike of the general public has become a deep-seated hatred of people in general, which has started to turn inward as self-loathing, due to the awareness that one can only really blame one's self for employment status. At this point, the tendency to use the "mute" feature of the phone to make very rude comments to or about the callers while they are still on the line manifests itself. Customer service/receptionist staff are often fired during this phase when the mute button fails them. They don't know how lucky they are.
4) A.P.W.M.O.L.S.F.I.O.H. + 4 years in customer service
After 4 years, a numbness sets in which allows you to tolerate almost anything. You no longer are bothered by what the customers do or say, feeling that nothing can surprise you any longer in terms of the sheer stupidity of people. (You may even be right, but don't bet on it.) Going to work no longer seems so bad. Unfortunately, this is only because you have dulled your senses and intellect in an attempt at self-preservation. Your hours outside work are largely spent on your couch staring blankly at the TV/a spot on the wall/out the window, or laughing inappropriately hard at the Darwin Awards on line. You engage in occasional revenge fantasies against particularly obnoxious callers and develop a 24/7 "People. Don't talk to me about people" attitude. This continues until:
5) 5 years plus:
At the 5 year mark, one of several things may happen:
a) You finally work up the gumption to walk away from your job and into something completely new. This may be digging ditches, sewer work, prostitution or hired soldiery; you don't care, as long as you never again have to remember that "Your smile can be heard over the phone!" (You are not convinced of that, but you are very well aware that your "F**k you!" is clearly audible.) You will not work in any field that involves telephone contact with ... well, anyone, if you can help it ... for at least a decade.
b) You delude yourself that your job is to help the stupid become less so through offering them guidance, and start to decorate your cubicle with motivational posters/slogans. (You may even sink so low as to have that sickening "Hang In There" kitten on a branch picture on your cubicle wall. You have passed beyond normal human feelings of shame.) You become that person with the glazed smile and the haunted eyes who brings in doughnuts for the office every Friday. You start to use phrases like "team player" and "think outside the box" with no trace of irony whatsoever. Your soul has been destroyed, and you are utterly pathetic. Death is better than this.
c) You snap, and end up either straitjacketed in a rubber room scrawling "May I help you?" on every available surface with the crayon clutched between your toes, or shot to death by police(with a broad smile on your face) after a killing spree at the closest available "yuppie watering hole". Either way, you aren't in customer service any more, so you don't care.
