For the last few months I have been an ant, a glorified robot, without the glorification, a worker bee without the honey, in what I have come somewhat affectionately to know as a ‘Telephone Sweat Shop.’ Yes, I am actually living that romantic ‘dream’ of a starving writer in the city, which is actually not so romantic, it is rather unromantic and certainly unsexy. It usually involves being grumpy and at the mercy of rather loud tummy rumbles prompting quizzical glances on the bus. I had had enough, enough of not being able to afford lunch or any fun while I applied for that depressingly elusive dream job within the arts sector. I sold out; I joined that peculiar race of people working as ‘telephone interviewers’ or the slightly less glamorous and more recognised term, call centre workers.
Arranged around circular ‘pods’ in huge airless rooms, ironically much like cogs in a machine, we are decked out in our ‘Madonna headsets’ making call after call all day to interview people on ever popular subjects like cancer and how satisfied they are with their investments. The whole office, both ‘suites’ a very erroneous term I would say in this case screams, soulless. It is run much akin to a concentration camp, there is a ‘guard’ at the door who records whether you are even thirty seconds late or if you take even a second more than your allotted fifteen and forty five minute breaks. You will have a black mark against your name if you do. They are constantly monitoring your surveys and give marks out of ten for your ‘disciplines’ or your ‘negotiation’ much like a school report card. They do make sure that you don’t reveal a hint of your personality, one supervisor even remarking to me, “We are actually just robots.”
That said however, I have put some misconceptions about this kind of work to bed. ‘Market Research’ a term which usually sends a shiver of annoyance down the spine of many individuals is actually nothing to do with selling or marketing. It is (I’ll have you know) researching different markets and the opinions and beliefs within them. I am evidently now, reluctantly in the business of ‘mining opinions’.
Striving to suck the positives out of the situations I get myself into, there are some here. We can dress however we like so you do notice the different personalities of your colleagues, from hippy to leather clad rocker. I like this eclecticism and have met really intriguing people. As far as dead-end jobs go it is actually one which challenges, which does involve many of your cognitive skills, unlike waitressing or making coffee. My communication skills are now polished to a high sheen and I have become stoically unflustered by the dreaded ‘hang up’. I have had some rare humourous and heartfelt exchanges with some of my ‘respondents’.
I am not destined nor have any will to become a high-flying ‘career’ telephone interviewer, if there is such a thing. Bearing in mind some aspects it certainly seems the closest I will ever come to joining the army and maybe I will at least learn to sharpen up my time keeping.
