Blogging, Poetry

Call Center (Feb.19, 2014)

Five more days.
Five more days & I’ll arrive to the moment of duty.
Five more days & I’ll once again rise to the call of duty.
I’ll once again be a soldier to the telecommunications sea.
A vast & hectic sea, full of suspense, pressure & unpredictability.

I’ll once again be an agent via the telephone.
Catering customer needs from their office or home.
Communication skills I must once again awaken & hone.
To their fullest level, to avoid problems.
To make every customer smile ’cause I’ve either solved or tried solving their problems.

I’ll once again be, a punching bag for irate customers.
Their machine gun curses & venomous cussing I’ll once again be enduring.
Taking every painful blow to the gut as long as I could have a living.
Their volcanic eruptions of rage spewing lava from their mouths to the telephone speakers.
I’ll once again try to cool their fiery tongue using words so I could create a metaphorical water.

Their alienation, discrimination & racist mentions,
I’ll once again grind my teeth due to anger & pain, for I cannot answer back in a bad manner
For I’ll lose everything before I could even gain.
This is the side, no one has ever heard of.
The side of the people that almost everyone thinks are jerk offs.

We say it not, for we must be discreet
We say it not, but we are stressed & boiled to the pressurizing heat,
Of competition, emotion & discrimination.
We didn’t want this job, but we only have the word “LIMITED EDITION” as an option.
“Thank you for calling, how may I help you?”
The words of a person who needs more help than you do.


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