Thursday, May 23, 2013

May I speak to a human being in HUMAN relations please?

I am convinced businesses are being run by angry, hormonal tween girls. Why? Because only a tween girl the day she realizes Justin Bieber will never date her would act this badly.

And even then, I'd rather talk to the little girl than these people.

This is how my last few days have been lately:

I have a move coming up. I don't accept this BS.

I called on the job I drew these cartoons for yesterday. By the way, there's no magical pen and paper fairy for we cartoonists, so in case you are wondering, that's part of why I'm even bothering to get a monkey job at this point. The other of course being that I'm trying to pay for a move. There's no magic Government money available to those wanting to move out of state.

I got on the phone promptly at 8 this morning, to talk to a company I applied to two months ago. For the sake of the article, let's pretend their name is the "Quacker Ducky Group". No that's not their real name, but any group that can't be bothered to actually do their job is not worthy of a professional name.

The first number I dialed told me to dial a second number. The second number told me that I had mistakenly reached the Virginia office, and offered me a third number. The third transferred me to a fourth, who transferred me to a fifth.

Each person told me the exact same thing. "Oh noooooooooooooooooo darlin'! You don't want to talk to meeeeeee, you need to talk to THAT person, it's THEIR job to fix this mess. Not meeeee."

Caller number five sent me to a robot, who gave me HALF of an email address.

So I dialed them back right away.

*RING RING*


"WHAT? Whatdoyouwant?? Oh? You applied and nobody got back to you? GAWD okay I guess if you really want to talk to someone in HR about it, you can call this number. Someone will totally talk to you about it." (Actual conversation)

*Calls number*

Robot: Thank you for calling. Please leave a message for *CLICK dooooooooot*

This is insane. I dialed them back AGAIN.

"WHAT!??"

"May I speak to a human being in Human Relations?"

"... Didn't you just call? GAWD what is your problem??"

Oh... I get it Mr. Customer Service Representative. I'm supposed to be taking YOUR job. I see. No wonder you're being a little pissy pants today.

So I sweetly explain that the number I was sent to is run by a robot that hung up on me.

"GAWD just use the website."

"The website is broken."

"UGH fine, okay, just hold on, alright??"

I listen to what sounds to be a rendition on acoustic guitar of the "Save File in a Cave" theme from Final Fantasy three... as done by a drunk Taylor Swift and three homeless hipsters after group stubbing their toes at a busy Starbucks. A very melancholy sound.

"Hello thank yew fer calling Quacker Ducky Group, my name is Sheila, how many I help yew?" Says the nicest voice I've heard all morning.

"Hello, who may I speak to about obtaining employment?"

"Didja use the website?"

"I did. It's broken. It tells me on the front that I have no applications on file, but when I click on my name, I can read my application and each place I have applied to."

"Oh no that won't do! Okay, all of the Human Relations people? They've gone away. So what I can suggest is that you call us again at 2:30 our time, which is Eastern. M'Kay? Have a nice day now!"

So I take a nap. A sleep deprived Kori is not a very nice Kori to deal with after all of this, but as I fell asleep, I hoped that this last person gets a bonus for dealing with the ogre I did.

I later call back at the specified time.

"WHAT?? Why do you keep calling? GAWD hold on!!!"

I got sent to another robot. Who again hung up on me. This is insane.

I call back.

"WHAT??"

"Hello, may I speak to a human being in Human Relations, please?" I explain the damage thus far.

"Hold on, OKAY??"

Ah, Taylor Swift and the Homeless Hipsters ripping apart another Final Fantasy theme. See if you can guess this little diddy? ♫ DAH DAH DAH DAAAAAH DAAAAH DEE DAH DEEEEEE ♪ Now imagine that being yelled out by Florence and the Machines at the top of their lungs, m'kay? And they're sad. Really pouring their souls into it, like a hipster whining about their feelings during a breakup at Starbucks.

*CLICK* "There's nobody here. Here's an answering machine, OKAY??"

*THIS IS THE ANSWERING MACHINE FOR VNDGDRMNG DFLCKR PLEASE LEVE A MESSAGE AFTER THE TONE ~ BEEEP*

The woman for whom I was to leave a message for, has a name made entirely our of consonants. How can i even address this person?

I called one more time, and was given an email address to voice my issue.

What I got back three hours later was a Mailer-Demon:
Kori is livid and speaking in third person now.

Kori is seeing red.

Kori suddenly get why people want to buy guns.

So I called back again.

"WHAT YOU AGAIN???"

"Yes, I am calling back because the people you keep sending me to are robots. Your website is broken, your system is broken and your email address sent me back a Mailer-Demon. Now may I please speak to an actual human being about this?"

"Grr........................... Hang on."

So I am sent to another customer service rep.

"Thank you for calling Quacker Ducky Group. My name is Droopy. *cheeks flap* Please state your business."

I explain the problem.

"Fhmmmmhm... Okay ma'am. Give me oooone second."

Ah. Now the Hipsters are doing that weird chanting thing I hear at coffee shops. Ah, but in the Final Fantasy "somebody died and it's kinda sad" theme. There are some sincere SNES Final Fantasy 3 fans here.

"Okay ma'am are you still there? *cheek flap cheek flap* I think I found the right person, just hang on on hold until I get her back."

You know, you can just about hear the acoustic guitarist cutting himself on the strings while he plays.

"Hellew thank yew fer callin'. This is Bethurz for Quacker Ducky Group, how may I assist yew?"

"Hello, who may I speak to about gaining employment with your company?"

"Well yew can go onliiiine"

"Your website is broken. May I speak to a human being in Human Relations please?"

"I'm the head of Human Relatioooooons."

"Splendid!" I tell her all about the broken website, the broken email and the fact that it's taken two whole months for me NOT to be called back. I hear her type my name one....... letter........... at ......... a..... time.

"Well I see yer in the system... Are you aware that the last two jobs you applied to are in Kansas and Arizona?"

KANSAS AND ARIWHAT???

I explain that the website sais they were in the area I'm aiming for. NOT Kansas and Arizona.

"Well I dun't buleeve the website is busted."

"I choose to disagree, ma'am. I know what it said."

"Well I can see the url, and it does say the wrong place is listed, but i fail to see how that makes it broken."

What?

"I see on yer resume that yew are a website designer............ is that a real job, web maintenance?"

"Yes ma'am it is. It takes a long time to build a website so it both looks nice and works properly." I stopped myself from explaining that there is no HTML fairy that grants me templates with a song, JAVA pixies that magically weave together image-slider codes on my behalf, or graphics gnomes that make the images appear out of my ass. A real-life human being has to build those.

"Well I guess I can take yer wurd for it then, but I dunnooooooooooo. Are yew even willing to show UP for this jawb?"

"Of course I am, I'm relocating to the area, I can be as close as you need to the position. I can be there early if you want me to."

"Well unfortunately few yeeewww we just now filled up our training classes until Ju-lyyyyy. And if you're a very good girl and say yer prayers tonight, then maaaaybe, juuuust maaaaaaaybe, yew will get a cawl back next week after the Holiday, m'kaaaay? Also this is a $10.50 an hour job."

"Out of curiosity, do you do relocation?"

"Ewwww why would I do that? If yer gonna move, do it yourself!"

I asked her for a specific time in which to expect a phonecall, and was told "MAYBE" next week. Also, by sending in my cell and my home number, it makes me seem out of touch and desperate.

I thanked her for her time, sat down and screamed as loud as I could.

For once, the neighbors understood.

No comments:

Post a Comment