Sweet bleeding Yeshua on a fucking crutch. I just spent over half an hour on the phone with Symantec's customer support for a problem that was a two minute fix. Y'know why? The person that was supposed to be helping me didn't fucking speak English!
For the sake of clarity, I live in the U.S. and was born here so English is my native tongue. When I call a U.S. number to get support for a U.S. product while I am in fact inside the U.S. it is perfectly reasonable to expect the person assigned to help me to be fluent in the same language as me. It's beyond reasonable. It shouldn't ever come up that this is not the case. But no. No. I spent 30 or 40 minutes saying the same shit over and over and over AND OVER again and trying like hell to understand the clicks and whistles that were being shot at me in return. Apparently when I dialed the number I was transferred to the fucking Oort Cloud where operators are indeed standing by.
What. The. Hell.
When it was all over I realized that if we had spoken the same language I would have been in and out of that phone call in under 5 minutes and that's counting the time I waited for the next available Oort Cloudian. It was not to be. Now I have a headache and I can feel my blood pressure reaching critical mass. I'd rather tear off my own leg and use it to kick myself in the balls for an hour than go through that horseshit again.
According to the recording that I heard while I was waiting I might get an email asking me for feedback about my experience. I dare you to send me one. I fucking dare you. I'd call them and ask to speak to someone about it but what the hell good would that do when all the numbers send you to customer service reps that are orbiting Azathoth in the swirling center of chaos.
I fear my head may actually explode this time...
2 comments:
Welcome to my hell.
If your job is to talk to Americans on the phone, and your command of the language is such that you are unintelligible to the average American, you aren't fucking qualified to do that god damn job.
Nine out of ten recruiters who call me are Indians. Occasionally, I get one whose accent is clear and intelligible. These guys are an absolute joy.
The majority of the time, it's a nightmare of labial trilling. I can't understand a god damn word.
I work with a shit ton of Indians. I'm practiced with interpreting the god damned accent. If I can't understand you... if I can't fucking understand you... you aren't qualified to do that god damned job.
</rant>
You should find their email and tell them what's up.
I think you should now eat something cheese-based or cheese-related. It's the only way to fly.
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