Writer’s block. No other explanation. I’ve been excited as hell to go back to writing. But as soon as my fingers touched the keyboard, they freeze. I couldn’t care less if I do not know what topic to write. I know I can make one in a span of five minutes. Leave it to my vivid and very active imagination. But the big question is: is it gonna be an interesting one? I’m not so sure, after all.
Three more minutes and my cup of coffee is history. I can feel my palms sweating as I slowly tapped the letters. What should be the right words; what should be the appropriate topic to write. Options start to pop in: something hairy and long, something sweet and lovely, something, something…Okay, breathe. Concentrate.
“Can you please take a sup call?”
Concentrate on the… the what?! Sup call. Right. Here I am trying to form words into a hopefully interesting topic, but duty calls. Yup, an escalated call from one of my agents. Reality check, I’m here in one of the newest buildings in Cebu, adjusting my headset as I am about to appease another irate customer.
“Don’t you understand? I need my refund! I need my money and I do not want you to charge me. Why is it that you cannot understand me? Do you speak English?! Blah, blah, blah, blah….”
For almost ten minutes, the American on the phone, who, ironically, was really Indian by birth, was screaming on my ears. And all the while, my brain was working fast, not devising what to say, but formulating words for my first come-back article. Effort, pressure...blood rushing through my veins.
“Hello, hello, supervisor, are you there?” I was awakened from my reverie as I hear her obvious Indian accent. It was a dead-end. I cannot do refund for an act that was done in sheer stupidity. I wanted to scream at her and tell her it was all her fault. But I know I can never tell her that. I slowly gathered my breath and told her I was sorry. To my surprise, she didn’t say anything. One, two seconds, three, there was no reply. And so I delivered my spiel, but now, with a little compassion. “I really apologize that this has happened but inasmuch as I want to, we can no longer give you a refund for this.
What I can do for you though, is give you a coupon that you can use in the future. It may not be much, but I do hope this could help…” I said as my voice trailed off . Again, no reply. It was my turn to ask: Ms. Smith, are you there? “Yup, I’m here. I just don’t know what to say. I guess it was my fault, after all. I signed up without really reading everything. Stupid me. But still the same, I am not going to use your website after I use what you have offered me. It is much confusing. But thank you for the coupon.” Click. The line went dead.
I passed the headset to my agent and went back to my station. Staring at my half-written page, I smiled to myself as I harked back to the call that I took. You see, it is on these rare moments that I can appreciate my being in a call center. It is not everyday that you hear people accept their mistakes and show their weaknesses. And it is not often that you get to test your own patience and your self control. But here, you get the chance to do all these in just one call!
I remembered my Lola violently opposing my working in a call center as it is unhealthy and immoral. Her reasons for saying it, I may not know. But I think I now have a rebuttal and a valid reason the next time we see each other. And as I am mentally making my verbiage on what to say, my fingers moved on their own as I now have a pretty good idea on what to write about.