Part 2 — Life, Love and Legacy — I’m Made In The UK
I’m walking down the stairs of the place I call work, which could be renamed hell. As I leave as fast as possible, I’m making plans for tonight, this weekend. I’m a call centre operator. What a shitty title. I have just finished reading a customer complaint; I will respond on Monday. The issue was about a TV remote control not working, not that you would think it from the insults within the email. Such blood curdling rage over an inanimate object which probably only needs new batteries. Here’s the thing if you make a complaint — do not demand and never be abusive — that’s an utter waste of time. How can you threaten someone you can’t see, touch, smell or feel? You just sound like a prick and I won’t give a monkey’s about your problem. Here’s a secret: if you do make a complaint and actually have a reasonable grievance, rather than just being a pain in the arse, tell me how you have been inconvenienced; I’ve been in such situations and know what it’s like. Then, make a suggestion of the resolution you would like to this unfortunate incident or occurrence. Simple. If I read that sort of letter, I’ll most likely go to my supervisor who will say yeah or nay, but either way the decision is out of my hands. If you insult me, I will just delete your email or throw your whining letter in the bin.
