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Technically it's Just another Job

OK so this one week (the one in this story, not this actual week), I began a new job as a Technical Support Adviser, working in a Call Centre so that was a good start to the week.

On the first day I figured how hard can this be? The day began, I answered the phone all confident 'Good morning this is Technical Support; I can cure all your technical problems. You name it, I can tell you how to fix it by simply reading this automated encyclopedic script, this fountain of all technical knowledge that has presented itself in front of me. Now mere non-technical mortal, how I can help you today?'

The day began rather rapidly with people all over the country calling up to say their Internet had stopped working. They had no idea what has happened to it but it has stopped working. It worked last night when they went to bed but now they've woken up their Internet has remained in a deep slumber, refusing to rise before its first cup of Columbian Roast. After an investigation they find a load of agents have just been sitting at their desk clicking away switching off people's Internet randomly while expressing their sheer delight in their work 'wheeeeeee!'. When the customer says their Internet isn't working is greeted smugly by the operator 'Yes I know'.

This particular problem required some technical-bobbety-thingy kind of change. A girl sitting beside me who was also new asked me why we couldn't just make the change ourselves. The reply came from a manager who explains 'oh no, they don't give you that kind of power. That would be far too dangerous.'

I was confused. I thought the department I was in was technical support. Suddenly I began wondering if they'd lied on the advert. I started asking people around me, what do we do exactly? People phone us up for technical support, they ask completely useless question to which we give just as useless responses, 'Yes, no, no, nee-eey'. I have no idea why we would happen to sound like knights that say 'nee' but that's what happens. Then after all these questions, I had to tell the customer 'I'm sorry sir but I can't help you further this will require special advanced technical support.' This is technical support of a much higher calibre, the levels of support that are unheard of to the regular Joe. It makes it sound as though this mere problem has now become an MI6 mission. They ask where the case is going and I have to tell them (and this is on the script too) 'I'm sorry sir that's classified information. If I tell you, I'm afraid I'd have to kill you.' Then, as you stroke your white Persian cat perched rather awkwardly on the arm of your cheap replica office chair, it falls to the floor for the 26th time today. 'Bollocks!' I said rather loudly, forgetting I was still talking to a customer. So after that incident I was marched into the manager's office and sacked for bad language. Ah well at least I lasted 2 hours, that's twice as long as the last job I worked at. I was only 59 minutes in at B&Q when I was given my marching orders. A guy came into the store asking for decking. I wasn't taking any chances so I threw the first punch. Knocked him clean out. I thought I'd done a pretty good job but the manager didn't think so.

One of these days I'll find my niche. I took her to the supermarket one day and came back without her. Oh I meant niche, not niece. Forget I said anything about that *whistles innocently*. For now I'll try to stick to my day job, it might stop me getting into so much trouble.
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