Awesome? That's a Negative
The flavors of customer service reps
One of the local plumbing companies used to start the call thus: “Hello, it’s a great day here at Minneapolis Pipe & Wrench!” Oh wonderful, they’re having a great day, and my upstairs toilet just fell through the ceiling. I appreciate the note of cheer, though. I’ve spent so much time lately on the phone dealing with customer service reps, and I’ve noticed that the people in customer service come in three flavors.
1. Stay-At-Home Dispatcher. They’re not in an office. They’re probably at home in sweatpants. I picture them playing Candy Crush on their phone, a Pekinese nearby. They range from sullen and rote to cheery and sympathetic. I’ve noticed that the script they follow emphasizes sympathy.
“Yes, I’m calling because a heat shield from a decommissioned Russian low-orbit surveillance satellite crashed into my backyard and took out my shed.”
“I am very sorry to hear that Mr. Lileks I know how stressful it can be when . . . decommissioned Russian low-orbit surveillance satellites damage your shed, and I will do my best to assist you with your claim.”
“It was a clandestine program and they’ll deny all knowledge so we probably can’t sue them directly, and they’d say I had no case because the USSR no longer exists.”
“I understand it can be stressful when the USSR no longer exists, so let’s get you started.”
“Oh I think it’s much less stressful, inasmuch as its successor was not ideologically opposed to the West, creating a bipolar world in which a titanic struggle played out all over the planet. Also, it took out a bird feeder.”
2. The Absolute Pro. The other day I had a remarkably good customer service rep. Crisp clear English, well-modulated friendly voice, engaging personality, and, most important, laughed heartily at my japes. When I gave the right answer for something, he’d say “Affirmative.” It was like talking to Mission Control in the 60s. But then came the dreaded part: the reference number. I had to write this down for my records. In a sane world it would be something simple, like (myname)(four digits) but no. Oh no. He took a deep breath:
“I’m going to give you a reference number. Ready? That’s A as in Aphasia, A as in Apollo, Q as in Quoits, six, seven, three-point-one-four, G as in Gnostic, lower-case h as in hotel, upper-class H as in Holiday Inn, I as in Inn, I as in Inns, number 9, number 9, number 9, R as in Rabelasian, M as in Mnemonic, EBGB as in Heebeejeebee, three, two, one, Z as in Zero, B as in Blastoff.”
When I read it back I make up my own words, because I do not have military training and cannot say Echo Foxtrot Hotel Castanet or whatever they say. To my relief he said “Affirmative.”
This is the best you can get. What I don’t want is behind door number . . .
3. The Over-Effusive Youth. The levels of enthusiastic obsequiousness I get from younger customer-service reps is jarring. Can I get your phone number? Awwwesome. Zip? Awwwwesome. Sometimes it’s quick - awsm! - and sometimes it’s drawn out with reverence like they’re invoking some old Norse God named Ossum. We’ve been told that Generation Z (or maybe Alpha, I am too Boomery to care about these distinctions) has a social aversion to the phone, because it’s rude and intrusive. You mean I have to talk to someone, just because they want to? You mean I have to just call someone up and make them talk to me? Obviously not all of them feel like this, but the ones that are capable of talking on the phone really lean into it, like they’re doing something retro or vintage and they think that’s how it used to be done.
I suppose over-emotional beats the script robots, but in the end I prefer Mr. Affirmative, whom I now see a guy with a high-and-tight haircut wearing a white short-sleeved polyester shirt with a pocket protector and a wide brown tie, going through the checklist and dispatching adjustors and contractors with the push of a button on a big clunky console. It’s likely he’s a guy in Malasia wearing flip-flops and a Rage Against the Machine T-shirt, I know. But allow me some comforting illusions in this fallen, broken world. (Which is also AWESOME.)
A few years ago it seemed most service reps were speaking to me from another continent, as they were eating marshmallows. So James’ alternatives are all an upgrade!
LOLing out loud, as the kids say. Thanks for that, James.
Speaking of foreign workers, I think I’ve found a reliable way to identify message senders for whom English is not their first language.
In response to “how are you today?“ I reply “never better.“
Non-English speakers inevitably respond with something like “I’m sorry to hear that.”