“Sir, your claim was denied due to moisture. Yes, water is moisture.”
It started as any other day at the call center - or so I thought. At 8:30 a.m. sharp I began working towards my self-imposed 80-call quota. Arguing with ignorant adults about the terms of their two-page contract which they didn’t read is not something you want to do more than once a day. Eighty was my sanity limit. I also had zero motivation to increase this corporations’ profits.
On this particular call, the customer was upset because the warranty company was denying their claim for part which was ‘clearly covered on the contract’. However, the client failed to see that ‘failure due to moisture’ voided anything that was ‘clearly covered on the contract’. We were fifteen minutes into the call. I needed a break.
“Sir, let me place you on hold while I review the terms with my Manager.” Instead of calling my Manager, I peeked over the cubicle partition to check in with my office BFF. From her exasperated, but controlled tone I expected to find her rolling her eyes or doing any of our favorite call center pastimes (scrolling through celebrity gossip sites; watching a reality show with subtitles; or job hunting). What I saw would live with me forever.
Maya’s body was splayed on her desk. Her right arm cushioned her head, and her left hand clutched her Bible. Yes, my gyal was clinging to her B-I-B-L-E. That caller was obtuse to the fact that their stupidity got to Bible-clutching levels. Poor Maya prayed for the Good Book to provide some basic instructions (like how to decipher their contract terms) before leaving Earth.
Before this job, I enjoyed calling businesses for special favors and assistance. I believe that customers have the right to request special treatment. What we shouldn’t be is be belligerent.
Maya was so deep in prayer that I returned to my seat and resumed my call. As much as I tried to explain that water is in fact moisture, he continued to rant about how we the warranty company failed to write a good contract and so he was entitled to his repairs.
What I should have replied was: Sir, the warranty company did not fail you. Firstly, you failed yourself when you neglected to read your contract. Secondly, by purchasing a luxury vehicle from a secondhand chain dealership which had a Walmart-level reputation. Ain’t nobody buying designer at Walmart. You know who else failed you? Your high school science teacher and your parents because anyone with a grade school certificate knows about solids, liquids, and gasses. In the end, you are a grown adult, with a driver's license, job, and a line of credit. You. Failed. Yourself. Thank you for calling customer service.
Created on St. Maarten. Based in Chicago. Onicia Muller (@OniciaMuller) writes, says funny things, and enjoys hanging with creative minds. Originally published in The Daily Herald's Weekender, Just Being Funny is a weekly reflection where Onicia laughs at life.
