This entry was cross-posted on the Convergys community as well. Right now, I’m to lazy to properly post a link. Search the interests for more info.
> I’m sitting here at my computer, listening to “It’s Five OClock
> Somewhere,” in a desperate attempt to get myself motivated for the
> tragedy that I know must come later today … In other words, I have to
> go back to Convergys. Noooooooooooo!!!!!!!! Somebody save me!!!! That
> place is absolutely, completely and totally evil. We do at least sixteen
> hours of work in an eight hour day. We stay in cue because Convergys
> refuses to hire more people, and most of the people we do have working
> there don’t do anything but goof off all day. I don’t know how many times
> I’ve been on the phone, taking phone calls from irate doctors and
> pharmacists, and, lo and behold, “Showtime At The Apollo” is going on
> throughout the center. It’s not that I’m the only diligent worker. There
> are a few of us: My friend Andrew, a guy named Dan Schuler, (Ray, he’s
> married to Heidie), and at least half the ASC Team, which is about six
> people. In total, there’s probably about thirty of us who work our asses
> off around there, with no appreciation whatsoever. And there are And
> there is snapping on a serious scale within our ranks. On Friday, Dan
> announced to everyone that could hear that he wanted to kill about twelve
> pharmacists, and had to be sent off the floor to cool down. Saturday,
> Andrew went apeshit after he had a pharmacist spend five minutes taunting
> him, and being especially uncooperative, and also had to leave the floor
> for some quiet time. We spent Saturday having to deal with an unusually
> slow specimen of klooginess that calls itself a database, and we spent
> eight hours being subjected to more “showtime” episodes, and having to
> listen to music of the Urban variety that was at entirely too high a
> volume to keep the floor at any level of seeming professionalism. By the
> end, Justin, one of the ASC members, was threatening to bring a taser gun
> to work, and start shooting anyone he caught goofing off instead of
> pulling their weight, and getting the fuck on the phones and helping us
> out. He too had to leave the floor. I think I might be the next one to
> snap, and it’s not because I feel left out, and want some attention. I’m
> pretty much to the breaking point, and I literally have to laugh to keep
> from crying. They keep introducing more and more rules. For instance:
> We have to sign a form to use the bathroom; While on calls, we have to
> observe the following: Never interrupt the caller; Make sure to address
> human needs; Make sure to use “team” statements to convey “ownership” of
> the call, (totally negates the rule stated just above); Convey
> confidence; Be sure to use proper pace, volume and clarity; Make sure the
> caller had a good experience; Make sure to acknowledge the caller’s
> issue, (this translates into “make sure you convey that they have your
> complete, undivided attention); Apologize and be empathetic, (this
> translates to: Agent can’t find information in system, so, agent says: “I
> apologize, but, unfortunately … “); Always use courteous tones and
> terminology; Convey desire to help caller; address human nneeds; You get
> the picture. Quality is now being determined by computer, with no human
> input, which totally does away with the human issues that get involved.
> And, lest I forget, we are to keep the Convergys Commandments before us
> at all times during our day, lest we forget one, and get screwed. And, as
> iff all this wasn’t enough, we found out last week that Express Scripts
> hasn’t signed a permanent contract, and has no plans to do so. Thus, we
> will be laid off sometime in the near future. And they wonder why people
> are flipping out. Even the more ignorant among us are starting to figure
> it out. Of course, management doesn’t know how to handle a few smart
> people flying off the handle. They just have John, one of the better
> supervisors, deal with us. The rest of them are all running scared. When
> Andrew flipped Saturday, my supervisor, (a guy who calls himself Corn),
> came running trying to find out what was going on, and he was half scared
> out of his pea-sized mind. Add all these new rules on to the ones that
> already exist to torment us, and you’re bound to have some sort of verbal
> melt-down going on. The biggest rule-problem is the annoying service
> level pukes who keep ringing my phone if I’m “out of production” for any
> length of time. If any one group of people over there ends up being the
> recipient of my wrath, it’ll be them. I mean, there’s still the Convergys
> Mass Choir, but they’re a given. I swear, this whole thing makes me
> desperately wish that someone could administer alcohol intravenously. I
> mean, I administered it Saturday night, and was pretty plastered, but I
> can’t go in to work like that. I wish I could. I’d feel a lot better.
> This situation makes me want to curl up in a ball and just cry for a
> really long time. I’ve had to sacrifice so much in order to take this
> job. I mean, I lie to people all day, every day, and I’ve worked on every
> Sabbath and festival that’s occurred since I got this job, and, if I have
> it until then, I know I’ll be working Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur as
> well. Even secular Jews go to synagogue on those three days, and I’ll
> most likely be working. And, of course, since I don’t have fifty million
> kids and an engagement with my baby’s daddy, there’s no way I can be
> accomodated when it comes to scheduling. We’re supposed to have unpaid
> time off, and paid time off, but those are as illusive as Santa Clause.
> In other words, they just tell us we have them, and don’t let us use it.
> And then I get some bullshit from the business manager: My supervisor
> doesn’t let me know when Unpaid time off is available, and it’s just a
> shortcoming in the system that I have to deal with, because they don’t
> want to take into account that their G-d-forsaken little kloogy instant
> messenger doesn’t work with my screen reader. So, I’m just supposed to
> deal. Someone, please, come and take me away from this shit.

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