Predator Press
[LOBO]
Stretching, Dave Harrison scratches his neck and remembers how overdue he was for a shave.
As a Tier Two Customer Service Rep for Southwest Airlines, he answered mostly calls forwarded up from people that initially take calls and field the routine issues.
And it’s true that as a “T2CSR” you get yelled at a lot. But overall the T1CSR’s usually get flustered by some hostile treatment and overlooking some simple solution or policy. To avoid this, Dave checks his computer screen preview of the issue prior to answering the phone. Making an already-irate caller repeat themselves too many times would be the equivalent of driving tanker trucks of gasoline into a volcano.
As a four year veteran of the Southwest Airlines Customer Service, he rarely saw an issue that surprised him anymore.
But this time the screen read:
“Customer wants to know how many Frequent Flyer miles he needs
before we hire armed bodyguards to prevent them from being stolen.”
Already reaching to the phone, he pauses and leans on his elbow instead, rubbing his temples, his eyes. The CS1s are taking these notes superfast, “live” and often being distracted by the customer. Sometimes a misplaced comma or something …
But doing this hundreds of times a day, Dave suddenly hears himself saying, “This is Dave Harrison. How can I help you with your Frequent Flyer miles?”
”Hi Dave,” says a cheerful voice.
”How many Frequent Flyer miles do I need before you guys hire armed bodyguards to prevent them from being stolen?”
“Your Frequent Flyer miles are perfectly safe with us,” replied Dave with a well-practice smooth. Still, unsure if he was on track with whatever this is, his eyebrows furrowed. “How many Frequent Flyer miles do you have?” he asked, fishing for information.
“I don’t have any yet I don’t think,” replied the caller.
“That’s my next question. How do my Comfort Animal and I set up accounts and stuff? I assume I have to buy my Comfort Animal a ticket. But does she get miles too? Or maybe a percentage?”
“No,” Dave replies. “But are you sure you have to buy your Comfort Animal a ticket? What is it?”
“It’s a ladybug. In a jar with holes poked in the top. Probably.”
Well away from the mouthpiece, Dave sighs.
“Where are you going?”
"We’re not going anywhere yet. Well, not planning it anyway. Just checking. Where do you keep our miles? Is there a vault or something ...?”
Predator Press
