P.P.C.

In the office where I've worked for almost 21 years, there's one element that's gotten on my nerves almost from the time I started. I used to describe the basic ambience as the "ppc" level, ppc being my code for Phones, Printers and Complaining. A high ppc level usually meant things had reached the level of cacophony: just a white noise where all the complaints, all the sounds, had merged into one. 


Of course, in this mix, it's the "c" element that's most powerful, most toxic. The phones and printers are just dumb appliances carrying out their duties, can't blame them. No, it's the complaints, the bellyaching, the malaise coming from the people we service. That's what wears you down over the years. 

At least that's what's worn me down over the years. I have never liked listening to people complain, no matter how justified the complaint may be. Now I know that problems are just plain built into this life(Psychologist Albert Ellis used to say that 'life' is spelled h-a-s-s-l-e), and do endeavor to help the poor individual on the other end of the phone or the other side of my desk. And I do sympathize with some of the things besetting them. But boy am I tired of hearing it!

There is a certain satisfaction, though, in helping someone through a problem, in helping to improve their situation one way or another. Whether or not they actually come back and tell you, you know you got something fixed for them, made their existence just a little easier. More often than not, this good feeling is in retrospect, after the fact. I don't always like what I'm doing, but I do like having done it on occasion...


The problem with customer service, at least of the kind I do in my job, is that you spend your days solving others' problems, but you still have problems of your own! You get to where you'd like someone to listen to your sack o' woe for a change.

I can relate sometimes to Jonathan Swift, who said he loved people but hated mankind. That's me with our customers: I love people- but while I don't hate customers, am awfully tired of them. Not tired of them as people, but  tired of hearing them kvetch about life. People to me are a rich tapestry, but their complaints are all cut from the same raggedyass cloth..

So after 20+ years of printers, phones and complaining, this cowboy is looking forward to hanging up his spurs in what he hopes will be about 2 years. I'm glad for the people over the years I have helped, but think it's time for someone to listen to me, to my dissatisfactions--my complaints. And God help that poor individual...