Oh god I just lost it with a call centre operative and I now feel really guilty

But reading Jon Ronson's article about how poorly treated call centre operatives are in the Guardian at the weekend made me feel a bit guilty about being so horrible to them.

But still, no heat is NO HEAT and you can't live like that!

Did you read that in the Guardian last Saturday?

Mainly the idea of "emotional labour" that is involved with the amount of empathy that call centre people are supposed to project.

I mean, anyway, to counter what's above... sure, it's a shitty job being a call centre person, but think how much worse Prawn's life would be if there were no call centres, and she had NO IDEA what was going on with her heating? (Ok, mind you, that's not that different from how things are now, but still. I'm trying to be optimistic.)

The most chilling part of that article was when the guy leapt into a sob story about how his friend had died of cancer and the reason he was doing this is so that you, dear person on the end of the line, you won't have to suffer like she did. Then he hung up and admitted he'd made it all up.

I've done call centre work. Cold calling, which was utterly depressing - but not because of the customers being rude, it was all to do with the team leaders and management 'targets' and bullshit attempts at 'motivation'.

And like Stone Monkey and not-goodwin, I've done the 'customer service drone' job where furious people ring in and scream blue murder. In my case, I had the joys of dealing with a raging underclass/benefit fraudsters and gentle pensioners who made innocent mistakes with their benefit. And yeah, the former found their requests shoved to the bottom of the pile. It was the only way of bringing a little bit of morality and karma to such a fuckawful job.

Of course, now I'm in the middle of a 5 month long, 15 hour-long angry phone calls and STILL NO RESULTS battle with UK Online to get my broadband back. The system done got me back.

I've often thought of doing what NFP said, ringing in pretending to be from a magazine in the hope of terrifying them into action. But would this really work?

I did briefly work for a cold calling company (not a call centre - there were only three or four of us in a terraced house in Putney) and it was horrific and soul-destroying, but I don't think I expect anything else. It paid £5.50 an hour in 1992 which made it worthwhile I suppose. I was trying to sell medical insurance to companies, which was far better than just calling people at home. I then got switched to market research, which is another magnitude better - it's still dull and lots of people don't like it, but far more respond and some of them actually enjoy it.

----------------
Imran cold-calling

I know everyone reacts differently when people cold-call trying to persuade you to switch energy suppliers or take out complicated talk plans. I used to be a bit abusive, on occasions, I'm sorry to say, but more recently I have started offering callers discounted DJ jobs. Once I start rabiting on about "dancefloor classics" and "I Luv You Baby by the Original" they tend to ring off, which means I can get on with my 'work'.

Just spoke to "Imran" who phoned me on the landline with some scheme for cheap phone calls. Did my usual "I'm a DJ, have you any parties this year; are you planning on getting engaged or married?". He admitted he was phoning from India. I asked him what his favourite music was and he said "Punjabi music". I said I had loads of Punjabi music (I lied). He actually got quite excited, but it turned out he didn't have a girlfriend so there's little chance of a gig. I said I'd do it for the cost of the airfare. I painted him a picture "You're getting married, it's your big day, and you have flown a DJ all the way from Manchester, England. You'll be the Man, Imran." It was sad, really because I think he really thought it would be brilliant.

He asked me what country I was from originally; I think the name 'Haslam' confused him, especially when I had told him I loads of Punjabi music. I said I was originally from England and at this point I confessed I didn't actually have any Punjabi music but I said I could get some from a shop in Rusholme. The idea of me having cheap calls just wasn't on the agenda anymore, but I also felt like a bit of a d!ckhead having a laugh at his expense. I told him to keep my number and call me back when he had a girlfriend. He said he would.
----------------

I've done call centre work. Cold calling, which was utterly depressing - but not because of the customers being rude, it was all to do with the team leaders and management 'targets' and bullshit attempts at 'motivation'.

On the fucking money. Worst job of my life. Someone told me the company I used to work for, Ant Marketing, were hauled over the coals in a Radio 4 documentary about call centre evil.

Yes, Googlers, that's Ant Marketing in Sheffield. Ant Marketing. Never hire them and never work there.

very otm. i've done work like this when things have gotten desperate, and my supervisors have invariably been psychotic and/or completely incompetent. i wanted to kill everybody. i quit one such job after a week and they refused to send me my paycheck.

So I have a lot of sympathy for call centre people as I know theyve heard the same story 6 bajillion times that week, theyre told what to say and what not to, which is why you feel like they wont help (they CANT, unless they want to get fired).

Cold callers from India on the other hand can kiss my keks. As soon as I hear the telling silence and faint bip of an overseas call connecting, I just hang up.

My mother spent a lot of the holidays screaming at cold callers that she was on the (US) Do Not Call list, but her line got at least 20 unsolicited calls a day despite this.

Market research - which I've done - is not as bad because the callers are not trying to sell anything but I can't help them now because journalism DQs me as a respondent.