As noted elsewhere, I work second level support for a large ISP. I try to fix things. I like fixing things. Unfortunately, sometimes things are not fixable by me, and so I have to dispatch someone out to your house to fix it.
When you called, you were asked for an availability window in which we could call back and have someone at home to work on things. You said “after 5 pm”. So, today, I tried to work my magic on your line, and called you at 5.10 pm. You were fine and polite right up to the point where my magic did not work, and I said “We’ll have to dispatch a tech to your premises; the earliest available time is on Saturday. Does it still need to be after 5 pm, or are you available during the day?”
Then the screaming started. “Saturday is too long,” you said. “Why can’t it be tomorrow?”
“Well,” says I, “it’s after 5 o’clock now and the techs have already been given their schedules for tomorrow.”
“That’s your fault for calling after 5 o’clock!”
When I pointed out that I was calling after 5 o’clock as per his directions, he insisted that he had told us 4, not 5. Later on in the conversation this changed to 3. Also, his service has been down for, variously, a day and a half, almost a week, and/or 30 days (this ticket has been open for less than 48 hours, so the day and half is the only one that makes sense). Also, apparently our service is not free! He is paying us good money, he says!
“I’m sorry,” says I. “Once the service is back up, our customer service department will be happy to credit you for the time down.”
“But your service isn’t free!” I take a moment to boggle. “And you keep telling me it’ll be one more day!” Actually, as you acknowledged when I called, you were told five business days, and here I am calling after less than two.
After roughly ten minutes of increasingly heated back and forth in which I try to moderate my voice and he becomes progressively louder, flatly refuses to give me a dispatch availability that isn’t sometime within the next twelve hours, and demands that I press ‘the magic button’ to fix his service, he finally demands to speak to billing. I transfer him over with a huge sigh of relief and go smoke several cigarettes.
Look, you comprehension-impaired, socially retarded cretin, I am trying to help you. I am attempting to fix your problem. Sometimes it takes more than one try. I am not calling you to laugh and point at the fact that your internet doesn’t work, I am not trying to harrass you into giving us your money for lack of service (both of which I was accused of in the course of conversation). I am trying to do my job, which, incidentally, would be a lot simpler if you would stop screaming at me and tell me when the fuck you’re going to be at home, because Og knows I am not enjoying this conversation any more than you are.
The fact that you don’t know how long your service has been out is not my problem. The fact that you don’t remember what time you told us to call back at is not my problem. The fact that you are behaving towards me in a way that I would consider inappropriate for any circumstances including while dead drunk in a barroom brawl with a guy who groped my girlfriend when I am trying to repair your problem (a problem, which, incidentally, circumstances are pointing to being caused by your shitty computer!) is, thankfully, no longer my problem because you’re screaming at someone in billing now.
Anyone got a winning lottery ticket? I think I want to quit and move to Tahiti.
