Defense Tackle
No Thrills, No Frills
My unemployment pay was to stop by the end of 2012. I had sent out hundreds of applications, been interviewed twice. I decided to move to Berlin and find whatever work I could get. Yes, the lion’s den once again. And once again, what options did I have? It made no difference where I ended up, the bullying would not stop. Let me have more of it …
I signed on with Competence Call Center. The city being a stronghold with faggots the world over, I was facing a management of faggots at all levels of the operation, the staff probably 90% faggots. Those who were not faggots themselves were stout supporters of those poor, poor doushebags. And working on me in overtime like no one had ever done in other ways …
The only one not pushing and shoving was Roxy (Roxanne on their website). She was with the team management of the FedEx team, internally labeled the Chicago team. We answered calls to FedEx services in Kraut nation, service orders, complaints, inquiries, tracking of shippings and deliveries. I was used to deal with odd people from driving a taxi for some twenty-odd years in Munich. Whether I may be perceived as paranoid or not, some of the calls and callers I was given to handle were odd to the extreme even by my standards of experience …
Once, however, I had an extremely pleasant lady on the line. She said she was with the military police of the US Army, so I won’t reveal her name, never mind it most likely was not her real name. Real enough, however, were her voice and manners. The most delightful phone convo I have ever had. And I was in the happiest of circumstances when a week or two later I had her in the line again …
This time our convo lasted for about ten minutes which is extreme by call center standards. We were expected to maintain an average of three minutes over the weeks. With this lady, I could have gone on for days and weeks, just listening to her voice. A warm, dark velvet voice. Unmistakably Afro-American, probably with her roots in the South. At least her manners suggested influences of what I imagine to be Southern gentility. No, I’ve never been to the South. Just heavily addicted to Southern literature, and the music that is rooted in the South …
About a week or two later, I had a caller on the line whom I would not have labeled as male, judging by the insipid syrup that was oozing from my headset. He kept asking me all kinds of questions about services and conditions, oooing, sighing, tut-tutting like a Disney cartoon of a faggot. After about ten minutes of this he let go of another utterly exhausted sigh, “Oh my Gohhhd! I’m so soooory for having bothered you for soooo so loooong! Please be so kind and forgive me, young man, will you, PLEAHHHHSE?! Ooooh, so very kaiiinnd of you, young man. Reeeally, I appreeeeciate it …”
“You’re welcome sir. Doin’ my job as best I can, sir. Have a nice day, sir.”
“Ooooh, aahhh!! Siiiigh!! GASPppp!!!”
The irony may have been calling me a young man. I’m sure he knew that I was with one foot in the grave. Just rubbing it in — young MAAAAN …
Seeing they could not get me derailed with this kind of pysop, they deployed new tactics. I was lured away from my desk on whatever the pretense of urgency was, and when I returned, my headset was gone. By contract we were expected to cover its loss and replacement with 50 Euros, but Roxy handed me a new set without further ado …
A week later, upon returning to work after a break, I could not find the case with my reading glasses. Roxy went with me to check all the places where I might have put or displaced it, including the deposit box where we were expected to store our personal belongings during working hours. Those reading glasses had cost me more than I made in one month at CCC. Not to mention it was not a matter of price tags, not anymore …
I wrote an email to the team management and informed them, either the glasses were delivered to my place by the end of the day, or else I would not come back to work again. The glasses did not show up, so I did not return to work again …
