Cell phone emergency

I read the next name from the list.  “Hakim?”

“Hey man, how’s it going?  I need your help.”  This is not Hakim.

The man speaking to me now has rushed directly through the front door, passing the 10-15 people waiting in line with their names on the list and is shaking his phone at me demonstratively.  I am polite.

“Sir, did you sign in?”

“No...What?” Looking around, eyeing the sheet. “No!”

“Okay, sir, well there’s a sign in sheet right here and I would be glad to help you get your name on it so we can get through everyone in an orderly fashion.”

“Oh no, I don’t have time to sign in.  I can’t wait.  I’m illegally parked in the handicapped spot.”

It’s one thing to think you can park in the blue parking spot specifically designated for those of our customers who need greater assistance accessing our store.  It’s something else entirely to assume that such a transgression would be reason for expediting your place in line.

“Sir, there are a lot of legally parked people on the list in front of you.”

“You don’t understand, this is an emergency.”

“Oh, I’m sorry sir.”  I feign frantic.  “I didn’t realize it was an emergency.  Please follow me this way.” I purposefully parade him back through the patiently waiting masses to the demo phones.  “Any number of our phones here on display are capable of dialing 911 if you need help.  Here, you can use mine!”  

I take my smart phone from its holster and start dialing.  Before he can protest, I continue speaking quickly disallowing his interjection.  “What else can I do?  Can I get you anything?  Do you need First-Aid?”  He looks at me, bewildered.  He then speaks to me slowly, as if I’m the one who is failing to understand the situation.

“No, it’s a cell phone emergency.”

I drop the act and look at him seriously.  “There is no such thing, sir.  Put your name on the list and go park your car in the lot.”

“You’re a real dick.”

“Thank you, sir.”

There is a gentle applause from the line as he exits in a huff, gets in his (take your pick) Porsche/RangeRover/Hummer/Prius and drives off, freeing up the prime parking for those who truly need it.

I return to my counter to help Hakim, who has been considerably more patient, with what will undoubtedly be his own ‘cell phone emergency.’

Security (Part 2)

“That’s a nice headset,” he puffed, "you get it here?”
“Yeah, paid for it.”

“Who sold it to you?”

“Listen, Mr. Bombay, if it’s a problem, I’ll return it.”

“Just tell me who gave it to you.”

“I bought it.”

“Okay, brother, who did you buy it from.”

“I bought it from John and I have my receipt.  If it’s a problem, I’ll return it.”

“No, it’s no problem.”  He stomped out his cigarette and walked directly to his cage.

Within four days, Jerry had been relocated and John had been brought into the office.  John was told that he should be extra careful about transactions of this type and that this should be considered his verbal warning.  John expressly asked if he was getting written up and was assured nothing would happen at the time.  It didn’t stop Cock Bombay from laying into him.

“How long you been working here, John?”

“Four years.”

“Do you like your job?”

“Yes,” he promptly lied.  If this was just a verbal warning, it should be done by now.  This additional harassment was unnecessary.

“How much did you make last year?”

“What? I don’t know, 40?”

“I do know, John.  I have numbers here.  You made $38,000 dollars in the last year.  Not too bad.  Do you know what Humberto made?”

“I don’t think I should know.”

“$50,000.”

“Okay.   Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m telling you this because I want to give you the best example.  You can make money if you work hard.  It’s my job to be your manager.  Do you know what a manager is?  It’s a compound word.  Two words together, ‘Man’ and ‘Ager.’  First you must be a man.  I am a man.  That is the first part of being a manager.”

Cock Bombay never went on to explain what an “Ager” was.  We all have our theories.  To me, he’s so frustrating that I think he “ages” me every time he talks.  In response to him being a man, I must protest.  A man does not transfer a security guard because that's the only muscle he can flex where there’s no Union to stop him.  A man does not jump to uninformed conclusions that meet his desired end.  A man does not disclose an employee’s salary as a means of threatening another.  A man does not, when given pressure from the Bobble Head to clean house, go back on his word and terminate an employee for an offense that was said to end in a verbal warning. 

John has just been handed his final paycheck.  Cock Bombay has been store manager for too long without advancement.  He has been failing.  Feeling the weight of the acrylic piling up around him, he knows he is stagnating--even if he doesn’t know what the word means.  He has only one card left to play.  After 10 straight months of declining customer satisfaction numbers, team morale failing and the executives looking for an answer, Cock Bombay and the Bobble Head have developed a plan.  They have decided to blame the recent shortcomings on a comfortable, experienced veteran staff.  If only to buy themselves some time, they have asked permission to start over with fresh faces.  

Since the executives are so sure that it is the system, not those employed by it, that is the secret to success, they have agreed.  Those of us with 4-10 years of experience are on the chopping block.  Our expertise in phones, special circumstances and problem-solving are worthless.  In other industries, I get this.  In some cases, you can pay three newcomers the same salary as one veteran and possibly get your money’s worth.  But we are union!  That means I can't even get a raise.  In my tenth year of selling cell phones, I am making exactly the same hourly money as someone in their second year.  I am your money’s worth!  Instead, I have now started working twice as hard because I am answering questions from brand new coworkers every 10 minutes.  

I’m not lying when I say this job took me over a year to grasp.  And I don’t consider myself a slow learner.  There are variables you can never plan for.  It takes at least a year to learn all the avenues, the extra-company resources you need to use to expedite, the secrets, the passages.  Two weeks of training are thrown right out the window when you meet your first “these options are not acceptable!”  Training classes on customer service cannot prepare you for the customer who has been “paying thousands of dollars a month for 20 years and would simply like to be compensated for [their] loyalty!!”  No amount of role-playing will give you the tools required to handle the nervous breakdowns, the tears, the crying out of “you don’t understand, everything I have is in that phone.  My life is in that phone!!!"

Security (Part 1)

We enjoy the company of armed security in our store.  We have since 2008.  The intent of this weaponized presence is to discourage the armed robberies of thousands of dollars worth of mobile devices.  This is not entirely alarmist as there have been a handful of these robberies all over the nation--a couple of which came to a fatal end.  Yet, I believe there is a better response to potential terror than wasteful spending. 

When I think of how much money it is costing The Company to staff these retired policemen 14 hours per day, multiplied by over a hundred locations, I can’t help but think there’s a better use for that money.  Everyone knows it’s possible--develop a software that kills, disables, ignites or explodes stolen equipment the second the serial number is registered on the network.  If the major networks would agree to join forces in this venture, stolen phones would be worthless.  Instead, we’re hemorrhaging money on security--bleeding through the bandage.  The Company is also fostering a situation in which the consumer feels violated because a thief can turn profit on or use the stolen equipment.  

The third question after someone has a phone stolen is typically, “Can the person who took the phone use it?” The answer, for now, is still 'yes.'

Our store in the heart of Los Angeles, open seven days a week and closed for three major holidays, requires 4732 hours of security per year.  At the $50 per hour charged by a private security company, that’s $236,600 for our location alone.  There are 8 stores in the area, 44 in the district, and so on.  That’s 10 million dollars per year without leaving Southern California.  A discerning individual might suggest that dedicating a fraction of these expenditures to developing a way of preventing it would be money well-invested.  I know safety is always priority number one in public (just as accessory sales are priority number one in private), but this spending is absurd.  It’s time to make balanced decisions when it comes to risk prevention.  Consider the risk, evaluate the odds.  “Better safe than sorry” comes with a price that someone has to pay.  Remove the temptation and the sin will be avoided!  People will only steal what they can either use or sell.  Make the stolen product worthless and it won’t be worth stealing.  And you can't tell me we're protecting the accessory losses.  You remember the markup on those, right?

Oh, and in the event of a robbery during open hours, these security guys have strict orders to never give chase.  Not that any of them can--most are collecting pensions and worker's comp from the LAPD while they nurse an injury sustained on duty.

Our last security guard’s name was Jerry.  Ex-cop, always a marine, he was a nice enough guy, if a little talkative.  The security company was fine, but these guys were mercenaries with their own endgame in mind.  Jerry would stand by the front door, watching to see which cars pulled into the parking lot.  If they appeared to be expensive cars, he would approach the driver, ask them what they did for a living and then explain why they would need his security for it.  Jerry was always telling me that someday I would need personal security.  I appreciated his optimism, and I hope he’s right.  But he’ll have to forgive me if I don’t hire someone who is always looking for the better opportunity.  And hell, for $50 an hour, I can learn jujitsu. 

Jerry would unabashedly approach celebrities, start dropping all the names of people he’s protected and offer up his services for the future.  His loudest claim to fame was being on Tupac's security detail the night he was shot--something I, personally, would omit from my own resumé.  And, while I appreciated his entrepreneurial spirit, I often questioned his attention to his surroundings.  Demo phones were stolen from our sales floor weekly.  We would sometimes find the back of a phone just dangling from its supposed security device.  Chords were cut and thieves walked or ran out, depending on whether or not the alarm sounded.  Because Jerry was still in the middle of a law suit against the LAPD regarding his ankle injury, he wouldn't move a muscle.  Instead, he would secure the area and assure everyone that everything was okay.  He was more affirmation, less asset protection.  We should have hired a life coach.

One day, Jerry approached one of my coworkers to see what kind of deal he could get on a Bluetooth headset.  This headset, the one Jerry had his eye on, was retailing for $100.  My coworker, John, said he would see what he could do.  

At the time, John happened to be working with a lady who worked for the United States Postal Service(Jerry had no problem interrupting transactions and initiating conversation).  She was equally garrulous and struck up a friendly conversation with both Jerry and John.  USPS and LAPD had an instant connection as they both collected wages for loitering in a cell phone store.  USPS learned that Jerry was interested in the Bluetooth headset and offered her assistance.  Employees of the USPS get a 50% discount on all accessories in the store.  Some of them take advantage of this discount and spread the love around to friends and family.  Technically, as long as the transaction takes place on the proper account, we can sell as many as we like.  

John rang up the headset at the discounted price of $50 and off Jerry went to secure the store or find potential future employment.  John finished his transaction with the customer and we all eventually left for the day.  One week later, Cock Bombay approached Jerry out front and lit up a cigarette.

“That’s a nice headset,” he puffed, “you get it here?”

(cont'd)

CPNI

I read the next name from the list.

Cock Bombay is behind me, observing.  I keep close to the script.

"Hello [Mr. Customer], are you here for business or personal reasons?"

This is the line intended to inform the customer that we offer both business and personal cell phone solutions.

"Umm, I guess personal?"

Can you blame him?  I'm practically quoting The Godfather.  Apparently, a VP has decided that images of horse heads in bed and lake-top fratricide are the best way to greet a customer.  I comply so as to avoid getting written up.  

"Excellent, how can I assist you today?"

"I don't get any service in my home."

"Oh man, I'm sorry."  Nope, can't apologize.
"Yeah, join the club."  Errh!
"Yeah, well, people are starving all over the world."  Tempting.
Instead, the script continues with a lie:  "I can help you with that."

I put my fingertips on the keyboard and look up, "Can I get the phone number on the account?"
He provides the number and a screen filled with boxes upon boxes of information loads before me.  A bright green line appears at the top of this account.  It tells us that [Mr. Customer] is eligible for The Company's offered television and internet services.  Cock Bombay taps the screen with his pen and lies,
"Looks like you can help out with this one."  He clicks on the world ELIGIBLE and looks up at the gentleman.
"[Mr. Customer], Jason is my best guy.  He will take the best care of you.  Mr. Jason, you can come into my office if you have any questions." He starts to walk away but gets interrupted for an override code just steps from my computer.  With him still within earshot, I mechanically recite the next part very carefully,
"[Mr. Customer], under federal privacy law, it is your right and our duty to protect your account information.  May I use your information during this visit to discuss products offered by The Company? Your decision will not affect your service."

Cock Bombay glares at me.  He gives me the look that says "if you let this guy off the hook..." before heading accross the floor into his office.  He doesn't want me to say the lines, just sell the products.  But he also knows I'm right in doing so.

My first issue with this part of the script is that I'm upselling a guy who came in to complain about his service.  Therefore he is a) a customer who complains and therefore not one I am quick to add to my list of regulars and b) unlikely to be receptive to the idea of signing more contracts for additional shitty products that The Company offers.  Just a hunch.

Beyond that, the FCC states that The Company cannot use information on your account, such as your address, to offer you additional services without your consent.  But, unless I'm being watched by Grouchy Smurf's wee, beady eyes, I NEVER recite these lines.  Why?  Formality is the quickest end to a sale.  Why, if given the choice, would I choose to plant seeds of doubt into a customer's mind by using words like "privacy," "duty," "law" and "your information"?  Talk about boner-killers.  I've been to stores all over the city and I never hear ANYONE ask permission before offering TV and Internet.  Because they all know that we run the risk of a "no" before even getting to the offer.  Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission?  Maybe.  Maybe not.

This is a potentially expensive omission.  The FCC threatens to fine offenders amounts in the 5-6 figure range, per instance.
So here you go:
The next time you're at the cell phone store because you have a valid complaint about your failing services (for which you pay good money!) and you are being offered TV, Internet, and Home Security, do this:  Call over the manager and ask, very sternly, why you were not asked permission for the use of your private information before being offered these additional services.  It's pant-shitting serious.  See what kind of help you get offered then.

Name Drop Soup

It just so happens that there are famous people in Los Angeles.  If you are here long enough, you will meet all of them.  At various moments, these celebrities are found wanting a certain level of attention to their physical appearance and reputation.  The range is vast and you quickly learn who is a dick and who is a cool person.  Moreover, as you confirm with others around the city, you find a consensus on the verdict.  In this day of social media and instant access, you have to be careful who you kick down on your way up.  Here's a partial list and a little loose word affiliation with celebrities I've helped over the past decade.

David Spade- Nice.  Funny.  Maybe a little immature in the way he decided it was okay to sit on the floor in a retail store.  But he told me I should be on ESPN, so we're cool.
Queen Latifa- An absolute joy and no stranger to sweat pants.
Don Johnson- Suave.  He assured me that I could bend the rules about an unreleased phone and "set one aside for ol' D.J."  My brain said 'no', but I think my body left and did it.  If a sketch artist were to draw 'winsome,' they should expect to see Sonny Crockett smiling back.
Bruce Willis- Polite, if guarded.  Can work a room.
Jeanne Tripplehorn's husband? You know him. He's in that movie Se7en as the guy who is forced to have sex with a prostitute while wearing a knife on his penis?  I remember him crying and convulsing in that movie.  And Alien: Resurrection? You know the guy I'm talking about??  Yeah, well, he was probably one of the worst human beings I've ever helped.  Know your place, dude whose name I still don't know.
Jeanne Tripplehorn- not much better.
Stevie Wonder- Helped with a lot of the accessibility features for the A-phone.  Comes to get a new one every launch day.
Andy Richter- Can browse for hours.
Dave Grohl- Very nice.
Rajon Rondo- Saw him twice, punched him zero times.
John Salley- A bit heavy on the self-help and dietary advice.
Lane from Mad Men- Dick.
Jason Statham- Kind, polite, bad-ass.
Vinnie Jones- Pseudo Statham
Amy Poehler- Asked me where Bed, Bath and Beyond was.  I think we had a moment.
Ruth Buzzi- Legendary.  Shocked I knew who she was.
Common- That's a damn good-looking dude.
Leonardo DiCaprio- Nice enough to come in with friend who had phone troubles.
Lukas Haas- Aforementioned friend of Leo.  Both decent guys.
Justin Bieber- You get the sense that it's always a day off inside this guy's head.
Emma Stone- Super cool.  And it is no surprise that her assistant is also super cool, as a counter to the Nic Cage Associative Asshole rule.  You hire you.  It should also be said here that, though I haven't helped William H Macy or Felicity Huffman in person, their assistant is cool as hell and I can therefore safely assume they are as well.
Samuel L Jackson- Not his best day.
Gary Oldman- Gentle Master.
Nia Vardalos and Ian Gomez- Sweet and generous.
Melanie Griffith- I really don't remember.  So...not memorable?
Heavy D- Quiet and sweet.
Kate Bosworth- Gorgeous and humble.
Mischa Barton- Stoned...I hope.
Seth Rogen- Lost his phone twice in the same week.
Jonah Hill- Funny.
John Stamos- Said he would play drums in my band for $100,000.
Howard Hesseman(of WKRP!)- Jazz.  Top priority was just to make sure I could transfer his Thelonious Monk ringtones.  He doesn't know it, but he still owes me a dollar.
Martin Landau- Blackberry devotee.  Insatiable curiosity to figure those things out.

My very first brush with any of these started like this:

I read the next name from the list.  It's William Hurt.

"How's it going today?"
"It's going fine," he shrugs and does that William Hurt eye wince.
"How can I help you?"
"I'm having (wince) a little trouble (head bob) with my phone."  He says 'phone' like it's a forbidden topic.
"Okay, well I can definitely help yo..."
"Not my (pause) phone.  My (wince) account."  Again, it's taboo.
"Okay, let's take a look.  What's the phone number?"
"The what?" Major wincing.  This guy's face is always pleasantly pained.
"Your phone number, so I can look up your account."
"Oh, well.  I...uh....I don't give out my phone number."
"Okay, well that's just how we look up accounts here."
He inhales between his teeth and looks over his shoulder before reiterating, "I don't give out my phone number because, you see, I'm kind of a famous person."
I search for the joke, but it isn't there.
"Got it.  Well, just give me your social security number then and we'll go from there."

He does so.

Accessory to the crime

The Bobble Head beeps onto the conference call, “Okay, who’s here?”

I’m in the Acrylic Cage with Cock Bombay.  I reach back and open the door 4-5 times to waft in some air.  Bombay is eager to chime in, “Los Angeles is on the call, brother!”  Oh, brother.  

“Mr. Bombay,” the Head responds, “who do you have in there with you?” 

“I have Mr. Jason, sir!”  He’s entirely too excited for the circumstances.  This is not a fifty-person conference call for congratulations.  The Company has yet to grasp the “praise publicly, criticize privately” concept.

“Mis-ter Jason”, The Bobble Head starts.  I can hear him leaning back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head, soaking it up, ready to go. “Do you know why you’re on this call?”

“Yes sir.”

“Why do you think you’re on this call?”

“Because I currently have the lowest amount of accessory sales per opportunity, sir.”

“I’m shocked, Jase.  Shocked.  I don’t even know what to say.” Oh, I doubt that.  “When my number one seller drops to the lowest in accessories, I think the world might be coming to an end!  How can you explain this, Jase?  How does my number one rep in the entire market have the lowest accessory numbers?”

“Per opportunity.”  I respond.

“What’s that?”

“Per opportunity, sir.  If you look at my total accessory dollars on the month, I’m still in the top three at $6000.  I just happened to close a 60-line business deal that did not pick up any accessories.”

“I don’t want excuses, Jase.”  I should know better, there are too many other people on this call.  I won’t win this one.

“I’ll fix it.”

“Don’t be on this call next month!”

“I won’t, sir.” I won’t be anywhere near it.  “I won’t.”

Accessories are the big push.  They have been ever since the cell phone service started degrading severely over the last couple of years.  As the A-phone users have been hogging up the network, each tower’s output has been shrinking.  These data-intensive devices are the double-edged sword.  They are wildly popular and digitally gluttonous.  The Company desperately needs quick cash to build more towers and improve the existing ones.  Since they started subsidizing the A-phone, they’ve been losing even more money with every sale.  It takes half a year to make any profit off a new customer--a full year for A-phone customers.  Sure, they’ll make it back eventually, but they need the money now.  They need cash.  The largest margin of profit comes from accessory sales.  The way they micro-manage that metric is per contract sale.  We are required to sell $80 per upgrade or new activation.  No excuses.   When I close a 60-line business account, I need to miraculously sell $4800.00 in accessories to meet that average.  Under normal business circumstances, you would think that closing a deal of that size would be well-received.  No excuses.

To get you to purchase a $30 car charger, I’m supposed to convince you of the value that you’re getting.  I will speak to the peace of mind you’ll have; you’ll never have to worry about running out of battery while driving ever again.  I will assure you that we will replace this equipment for up to one year under the manufacturer’s warranty (flooding, plagues, swarms of locust and other Acts of God are not covered).  I will insist that you are purchasing a quality product from a quality company and you will feel justified that yours was money well-spent.  Unless, of course, you discover that these car charges cost $1.13 to manufacture and you are therefore the sucker who just paid for the 3000% markup. 

The Company clears straight up cash on the deal.  Every accessory we sell translates into instant funds.  My 60-line business deal will pay off in the long run, but in the short term, it has put The Company in the hole.  I gave out some free phones and some heavily discounted Blackberries to get that sale.  The thousands of dollars that the company will ultimately be profiting on a monthly basis from this deal is not for discussion, it will not be considered.  They’ll make new business lines our focus next month/quarter/year.  This month, it’s priority number one--our accessory dollars per contract opportunity.  This month, fellow sales reps are turning away sales without accessories so they can keep off of conference calls like these.  Coworkers are shedding upgrades and telling the customers who walk in that they can get a better deal online for the phone, but they should probably get the car charger in store, in case they ever need it exchanged.  Those who sell $2000 dollars in accessories at the end of the month with only 20 contracts will be praised ($100 dollars per contract!). I might sell $8000 with 140 contracts and therefore be forced to defend myself and explain whether or not I really want this job.  You do the math.

The Bobble Head finishes up the phone call with the results of a study.  

“They’ve done the research, people.  People who buy more in accessories are less likely to change service providers.  More accessory sales means more retention.  More retention means fewer chargebacks.  Batteries, cases, car chargers and Bluetooth headsets.  When I check the security cameras, I want to see you bringing all these things to the counter with every transaction.  No excuses.  No exceptions.  Even for someone paying their bill.  Offer them accessories, offer them home television services sell them on the value of Family GPS Location services.”  He piles on a few services that, if not sold, will probably end up in a conference call as well--still missing about 20 other “focuses” that we have every month.

Never mind his loss of focus at the end, the important mistake lies in his mis-analyzing the data. The contrived association of people who purchase more accessories being the same people who don’t change providers is an association of convenience.  This is an issue of confusing correlation for causality.  Data is not information and this “research” is only half the story.  People who spend indiscriminately tend to be, by definition, less discriminant.  Those who spend hundreds on accessories probably spend hundreds on their monthly bills.  They probably don’t even see their monthly bills and don’t know that other companies are less expensive.  Those who spend a shitload of money on accessories are probably too lazy to change their services to another company anyway.  Or maybe they realize that the 3 hour phone call to dispute a surprise contract is not worth their time--it's better to suck it up and stay.

Telling underpaid sales reps that the Company needs money will conjure neither compassion nor inspiration. They can't make it that simple, so they don't actually tell us how badly they need the money.  Creating a connection between The Company gaining money and the sales rep keeping money is the only way to meet their desired outcome.  It’s the win/win that highly effective people are supposed to be looking for.  But in this industry, if two sides win, the third side loses.  If I point you to amazon.com for inexpensive accessories, I'm stealing an opportunity that The Company would otherwise have to make money.  But if I aid The Company in taking advantage of you, I am just as guilty as if I were taking your money myself.  Each day, by simply clocking in, I put myself in a position to be an accessory to some kind of wrongdoing.

In the backend

   Brooklyn and I have a secret weapon.

         We have access to a backend computer system that is more powerful than the almost dummy-proof system that our inexperienced coworkers have access to.  Most of what needs to be done can be accomplished in the Direct Operations Personnel User System that everyone has access to.  But DOPUS has its limitations.  Brooklyn and I have a tenured login into a smarter, more powerful system called Tellect.  Tellect is the more nimble backend upon which DOPUS, the graphically pleasing to the idiot eye, is built.  DOPUS is slow, Tellect is fast.  Tellect is smart, DOPUS is dumb.

          With our superior access, we are able to change a customer's billing address, correct a spelling error on their name, run credit checks and transfer billing responsibility from one customer to another.  If the occasion calls for it, we can change a contract length from 24 months to 12 or 0.  We can handle the special cases without having to call into customer service.  In these cases, stores without Tellect access have to call in to Customer Service and spend over an hour explaining the situation, waiting for that rep to consult a supervisor and finally get the process accomplished.  If, for example, someone wants to transfer the billing responsibility of a phone number to another individual--let's say a child has grown and is taking on additional responsibilities--Brooklyn and I can complete the process in 10-15 minutes.  Calling in to customer service takes over an hour.  Easily.  Simply put, we save The Company hours of double-paid time that is the result of a sales rep in the store being on the line with a customer service rep on the phone.  Our fifteen minutes of effort saves over 120 minutes of hourly pay. So it should come as no surprise that The Company does not want us using the system.

      

         "But, wa, wha?" you say???  Exactly.

          Why would a system that allows us faster access and powerful problem-solving capabilities be banned?  Why would something that results in the customer exclaiming, "oh, that was easier than I thought it would be!" be discouraged and discontinued nationwide?  Because, you see, every time we use the backend system, there are no surveys generated to the customer.  And, you see, if we can't generate the surveys, we can never get the JD Power and Associates Award for Customer Satisfaction.  It is important, you must understand, to sacrifice speed and competence in the face of the customer so that they can later rate their experience.  That makes sense, right?  Total stupefying sense, RIGHT???  What good is pleasing the customer if they can't tell us about it?  Surely a customer would not mind waiting an extra hour in the store so long as they are offered the opportunity to give us a perfect score later.  You see why we drink at lunch?

          Because I don't need to exaggerate, I will simply say that, as a store, we are able to assist 25-30 more customers in a day that Brooklyn and I are working because of this system.  The entire store benefits from more sales and happier customers.  I know, it's a terrible business combination, but it feels oddly right to us.  So Cock Bombay needs us and our coworkers use us.  And, shit, we're just happy to feel useful.

          Miguel walks up to Brooklyn with a post-it note and puts it on the side of his screen.  

         "What's this?" Brooklyn asks.

         "Customer account, I just need a feature added."

         "You can do that in DOPUS, though," Brooklyn reinforces.

         "Yeah, but we don't want this customer getting a survey."

         "Gotcha."

          Obviously there are the somewhat deceitful uses of Tellect.  Brooklyn and I are the sometimes curators of crazy in this regard.  If we encounter a customer who is 'unfit for surveys', we will assist our coworkers in accomplishing whatever it is they need on the backend.  No surveys are generated and both the employee and Company benefit from avoiding this negative score.  It's against the rules.  Technically it is called "customer avoidance", which is cause for disciplinary action.  But lest you think it ends with us, every time Cock Bombay pulls a customer into his office to air their grievances (in the office where air is lacking), he emerges, pulls one of us aside and says "credit the customer's account $50....and do it in the Tellect.  Make sense?"

         

         Make sense.