Sooo…tomorrow marks the beginning of my latest step toward world domination. I started out waiting tables, of course, but taking over the planet $3 at a time isn’t as effective as one might think. Realizing that, I decided to join the Air Force. Most of you already know how that went.
After a month of searching (in which the $900 I’d accumulated during my USAF tenure dwindled away with great haste), I finally gave in and posted my somewhat-less-than-impressive resume on Monster.com. I billed myself as “Experienced Customer Service Professional” – buzzwords where buzzwords are due, y’know. Within two days (!), I received an offer for a “contract opportunity” (read: temp job) at Wachovia’s regional call center here in Roanoke. Six months of 40+ hr weeks @ 10.75/hr = “Why, sure!”, and lo, the date of my rites of initiation draws nigh.
Now that you have the backstory, which you needed, because I said you did, and you shouldn’t argue with me, even when I make A) questionable amounts of sense and B) liberal use of arcane and confusing formatting and run-on sentences*…what sort of joys can I expect in my new capacity?
Understand that I’m quite inured to people yelling at me through little or no fault of my own. Three years of waiting tables/managing restaurants followed by Basic Military Training will do that to a person quite reliably. That aspect of the job will come very naturally. What I’m wondering now – and what I’m nearly certain my three weeks of corporate in-house training will not tell me – is exactly what manner of marvelous questions I’ll be dealing with on a day-to-day basis.
My gut feeling, based on zero experience in the field but a great deal of experience with the public in general, is that the hardest part of the job is going to be figuring out what the person on the phone actually did that created the reason for the question in the first place. If my various experiences as “unofficial office tech support” have taught me anything at all, it’s that people will deny until the end of time that they took the one and only action that could possibly have caused the problem at hand, thereby willfully withholding from me the ability to do anything about it (“Now, which one of these emails did you open, and when did you open it?”) while simultaneously insisting that I fix it at once. Once I figure out the problem, applying my knowledge of Bank-Fu to defeat the conundrum should be a relatively simple matter…but my hard-earned cynicism forsees many conversations in the future of the following nature:
Caller: “I should have $200. Where’s my $200?”
Roland: “All right, sir, I’m looking at your account right now, and I don’t see a transaction for that amount. When did you deposit the money?”
Caller: “Deposit? What deposit? Where’s my *%@!ing $200?!”
Roland: “Sir, are you saying that you’re missing the money from a prior deposit, or that it was erroneously debited from your account?”
Caller: “MY ACCOUNT SHOULD HAVE 200 DOLLARS IN IT!”
…and so on, and so forth.
So, banking CSRs former and present, lend me your expertise, and tell me your tales. What am I in for? How much does it have to suck that they’re willing to pay a 21-year-old waiter with half an Associate’s $10.75/hr, with benefits, to do it? (There’s that pessimism again.) Speak up, and pull no punches!
*This would likely be less of a problem if I tried sleeping on a daily basis. That, however, seems quite improbable at this time, so I ask that you bear with me, and give me the requested dirt forthwith. Whee!