Burnout (musings of a former call center rep)

I'm not growing up I'm just burning out
and I stepped in line to walk amongst the dead.
- Green Day


Let’s see: Wake up. Bum around in bed hoping desperately to stop the clock knowing full well you can’t. Set the alarm for 15 minutes more. Maybe even skip breakfast (or in this case dinner) for a few more minutes of decent sleep. The alarm goes off and another debate goes inside your head on whether you’d go to work or not. You figured well what the hell, “health is wealth”. Forget the money and go back to sleep for a healthier existence. Working at night is bad for the health anyway. Circadian rhythm’s gonna go haywire. Pat yourself in the back afterwards for a job well done. It’s only temporary. Tomorrow the motivation will be there. Just not today, si?


I wonder how many people in this country go through with that kind of conundrum everyday. The dreadful sensation of anticipating the same routine, spiels, reactions to the same stupid inquiries and queries over and over until one feels like one of those assembly-line robots that are frequently seen or read about in cheesy scifi movies and stories. I’m talking about being a call center rep. Since this industry started during the early part of this century, it practically saved millions of fresh graduates from the hassle of unemployment and bumming around. It’s practically the new nursing. Parents, now more than ever, encourage their kids to polish their oral English proficiency skills with hopes that they land that high-paying job. Schools even give preparatory courses for the thing and every classified ad section in the papers are filled to the brim with full page spreads of the biggest companies promising competitive packages and “fun, creative workplaces for the smart and adventurous” youth of today.

First gig

I started in the call center business in January 2003. Back then, people didn’t have much of an idea as to what type of work it was. The graveyard shift was still commonly associated with more familiar nocturnal activities like prostitution and drug pushing. When friends asked me what kind of job I was currently stuck in, and I told them I was a CCA (meaning call center agent), they would immediately assume I work in a telecommunications corporation like PLDT or BayanTel. It’s not entirely an off-tangent assumption; call centers utilize telephone lines as the backbone of the business after all. But that’s as far as the similarities are concerned. You're practically a salesman, front desk information/customer care personnel, computer technician, salesman, and did I mention salesman? The only difference is you're sitting in an office and you deal with clients oceans away from you. That, and the pay is relatively larger than average 9-5 day jobs. It that come-on doesn't attract aspiring job-seekers then the Pope isn't Catholic. 


I remember earning much as 35K a month in commissions from my first call center gig back in 2003 peddling online advertising slots for small businesses in the USA. I know it sounds pretty far-off and even appetizing considering the type of monetary gain you'd reap that you won't find in any other day jobs but the daily stress that went with it can't even be approximated by even most people working the same business nowadays. The first reason is because most call center reps have the benefit of having the rudimentary knowledge of how the business works because it's already common and being mentored by people who are real veterans in the business. And secondly because telemarketing isn't a popular outsourced service as customer care or tech support. And I had my first taste of the call center industry via telemarketing. Or as it is more commonly known, an  outbound account. They don't call you. You call them. And Westerners are notoriously unlike Filipinos in accommodating total strangers who would like to have a slice of their valuable time. Specially pesky salespeople like myself.

Second gig

I remembered the training class I underwent when I was still a newly hired employee for the second call center company I worked for---this time it was a customer care account; inbound so to speak, so I figured it was a walk in the park . But the pay is relatively smaller. Fine by me. With the kind of nickname like "Boiler Room" attributed to the production area of the first company I worked for and the early symptoms of ulcer and insomnia starting to kick in, I figured a big paycheck can't be taken to an early grave anyway. And I have had enough of those Southern rednecks threatening to blow my head off if I call them again and wasted their precious time after they made it very clear that "I AM NOT FUCKIN' INTERESTED ON WHAT YOU ASSHOLES ARE SELLIN'! EVEN IF IT WERE THE GOOD LORD'S TESTICLES SO HELP ME GAWD AH'LL SHOOT YA!!!"


And my batch mates---mostly fresh grads who had no prior experience in the business were wearing expressions in heir faces like they were cattle about to be slaughtered. Typical anxiety talk about when the "LIVE" calls would commence; on how they'd screw up when they started to engage a real American in conversation, things like that. Thank God for the kind of experience I had in the first company. Everything was a walk in the park with the second one. Inbound is gay. 


And then I quit the moment I was regularized for the position. Location, more than the nature of the work. I hated the business center the office was located in.


Slang is nothing. Guts is everything.

Aqua sea foam shame

Random conversations overheard from Wynsum Corporate Center to the MRT North station:


"...Poooota paaar-rre (coñotic rolling of the "R")...I heard Cueshe's gonna perform again dito next week...astig parr-re..."

"...Nakakainis talaga si Uma. Gwapo sana pero bading pala...bakit pumatol kaya sya ke Cass no? Bisexual yun. May tito akong ganun din...Kala mo ang macho..."


"...Bad trip nga amputangina! Ampangit na nga ang sagwa pa ng ugali! Ba't ba naging bisor yun? Makapag resign na nga! putangina talaga...!"


"...Hindi talaga ako ma-relo. Yung swatch ko nga binili ko nung Christmas pero nung New Year ayun...Nabaon na sa aparador di ko na sinuot..."


"...Kamusta yung panliligaw ni Vince? E langya, dinadaan kasi sa kapreskuhan e...dapat pare, ang babae, kunwari di mo gusto para ikaw ang habulin..."
_____________________________________


an excerpt from a song by NIRVANA:

I WISH I WAS LIKE YOU

EASILY AMUSED.

Rock the burak

Goddam neighbors think they're certified audio-f$#%$-philes.

I was roused from a very good night's sleep at around nine this morning by a very LOUD and steady thumping from next door. The idiots were playing Master P's "Rock It(?)" or "Rock The Boat(?)" . If there's any other hip-hop song in this world that would make me rather listen to Vanilla Ice or that moron from Linkin Park (it's goin' daewn!), I guess this crap with the rock the boat rock rock the boat rock-chorus that sounds "rakdaborakdaborakdaborak" would be the best reason. 

I'm gonna invest on a good speaker system so that the next time something like this happens again I'll retaliate with something from a Swedish black metal band. See if they like a dose of their own medicine. I have no problem with their musical preferences, but it is their cranking the volume to astronomical levels that violates other people's privacy is where i take offense.

It's bad enough that it's loud.

But Master P?

RAKDABORAKDABORAKDABORAK!!!!

Idiots.