Call Center Diaries

The Call Center Diaries

I was just sixteen when I got my first job. It was with Opinion Research Corporation, a then small telephone research company based out of Princeton, New Jersey. While all my friends spent their time flipping burgers, babysitting unruly children, or pumping gas, I was sitting inside an air-conditioned office building in a cubbyhole making phone calls. It was a teenage dream come true. But there was something more about this work than nightly conversations with women discussing their Gillette shaver usage. It was the connection, albeit over the phone, to people. Thus, would start my deep, yet short passion, for the call center lifestyle. It was this passion, long since faded, or so I thought, that caused me to take particular interest in President Obama's trip to Asia.

I had never been tempted to stow away on a plane, until now. Who would blame me? AirForce One with the President and First lady would have yielded stories for ages. He is fascinating, although I would imagine less talkative post mid-term election. The First Lady, beautiful, nurturing, and intelligent, not to mention physically fit. However, it was not even the prospect of getting some bicep workout tips from Michele motivating my desire to travel. It wasn't even India. Sure, I would have delighted in seeing the Taj Mahal, eating authentic wallawalla cuisine and meeting the people who gave us the Bhagavad Gītā. However, my real motivation was much simpler, much more personal. I wanted to get one more look at a call center before I died.

Yes, I confess, I miss the ringing sounds of the inbound call center like the one I worked in North Carolina (ITT Sheraton). I miss the uncertainty of whether or not callers would allow me get though my introductory spiel. I miss hanging over the top of a coworkers cubical as they struggled to assist a difficult caller, all the while waiting for the chance to mouthed the words "transfer em' to me." Spending nights wondering what part my service had played in the ExxonMobil or DaimlerChrysler mergers. It was if I left it my desk one Friday and returned Monday, only to find it all gone. So why not look in Zaire, or Spain, or Montana? After all, I have never been to any of those places either. Let's face it, international outsourcing has transformed India into the call center country of the world; the Mecca of call center theology, if you will. Imagine, in the span of just ten years, I lost my headset, my cubical, my passion, but at least I know where to find them. One day, God as my witness, I will travel to India and get them back.