First reason: Customers cannot see hand gestures or facial expressions over the phone. As long as I keep my voice up in that annoying octave that girls in pigtails and pink tank-tops tend to use no one can tell that I'm fake vomiting and drawing pictures of unicorns on my notepad instead of writing down their information. It's a serious plus.
Second reason: I now work for a large, rather important corporation. This means a pretty awesome benefits plan as well as exposure to the sort of nonsense that suddenly makes the plot of the movie Office Space seem not only plausible, but a likely conclusion to my year of employment.
-The subject lines alone of some of the company-wide emails I get make me want to take a baseball bat to the fax machine.
Third reason: I work for the same company as my older sister* and get to send her emails all day expressing my frustration and general level of apathy at any given time. These email counseling sessions are most likely the only reason I am still employed and will also be the number one thing that gets me fired should upper management discover them.
*Yes she got me the job. No I am not embarrassed by this, as I have no pride. I also lived with her and her husband for a summer and continue to mooch meals and various other things off them, with no intention of stopping.
And so dear friends,** while I will continue to have a section of this blog for Customer Service stories entitled "We Apologize for the Convenience" I'm now starting the section "Corporate Sagas" where I will share with you some of the most tragic, desperate, and self indulgent emails to my ever so patient sister (also known as my free therapist).
**Some of you aren't my friends. I'm saying that to be nice and because it's a thing people say. It's not that I dislike any of you, it's just that I barely know you and I'm just calling it like it is. Don't get all in a huff about it.
We're going to start today with this lovely gem sent last week, the morning of my Birthday.
From: Baylee Steele
Sent: Tuesday, April 09, 2013 8:45 AM
To: Lindsey Gustad
Subject: SADNESS ON MY BIRTHDAY
Sent: Tuesday, April 09, 2013 8:45 AM
To: Lindsey Gustad
Subject: SADNESS ON MY BIRTHDAY
Good Morning- what’s left of it now that you finally decided to show up to work.
(I’m kidding)
Have you seen my desk though? It’s awesome. there's a balloon. And I got Starbucks. So that’s nice.
My leg is still all jacked up and I’m worried about it.
What time is your appointment today? Are you even coming in at all?
Are we still going to Red Robin today? I want to… but also if it’s still snowing and yucky idk if it will be worth it. Omg unless they can make me a hot chocolate with alcohol in it. I bet they could if I told them it was my birthday.
I’m bored and it’s snowing on my Birthday. *sigh*
I’ve had too much/not enough coffee. It’s hard to tell.
Also I know I’m old because I forgot how old I am turning today… I told Brandon 22 and Kim 24.
But 23 is a better number than 22. I like it better. 22 is dumb.. like 11. 11 is a dumb number.
I just realized this is turning into a conversation with myself. Like something I would write in a journal. I guess I’ll send it to you anyway.
OMG YOU’RE MY JOURNAL. Which is better because you actually reply.
OMG I’m so tragically lonely I want a journal that talks back?
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME.
I'm trying to figure out if I like this because it's funny or because I'm a main character in it and I'm just really self-centered. Also I don't remember what I replied to that email but you really should put it in here because it was probably genius and I could get other patients for my upstart unlicensed therapy practice. Oh and we could give them a coupon if they find me through your blog posts.
ReplyDeletePer your request:
ReplyDeleteLindsey 's response to this email was
"I feel like I just got locked in a room with several angry schizophrenics..."
Oh...so not super comforting and helpful like I assumed it was.
ReplyDeleteAlso I'm going to point out that needing a journal that talks back was a major downfall of some characters in Harry Potter.