Tele-fun: You Want My Phone?

Tele-fun: The First of Many, continued.

This job got me my first phone and number.

It was a used, black Motorola that Once a Turbo sold me at the handphone shop he's working at that time. Couldn't remember the model. It comes with battery that looked like four AAA-sized batteries taped together in two columns. It was so heavy and huge, my pants looked baggy.

I know it was hidden somewhere in the house, but I couldn't find it. Tried Google it instead. It's not even archived in the Net anymore. Wow. Was it that old?

I pampered myself with a better phone later. The only phone that Kyocera sell here, the TG200. It was the lightest phone then. Gaya kan?

I'm still using the same number up to now. And don't ask.

But I can give you the Motorola if I can find it.

Tele-fun: The First of Many

Tele-fun, continued.

Yes. I'm the one who call you in the middle of a meeting / sleep / meal / poop / pee to waste a fraction of your life into an irrelevant questionnaire or survey. My apology if you have received a call from me before.

It was some time after I did my round in the retail. Since Primary Two is already working with Halfway Up the Top of The Cloud for nearly two months. They needed an extra hand.

It was my first decent job. Full time. Ironed shirt, and slacks. Choking necktie. And cubicle kinda decent.

A 9-to-5. With overtimes, allowance and other claims. We were the more rebellious batch. Rolled up sleeves. Loosely hanging tie. Unbuttoned collar. And I'm the first who wear short sleeves to work. Casual Saturdays, but strictly no short pants. I was forced to take off my ear studs too.

The job was pretty simple.

Just call people up to attend a product preso in the office. Our part was not to sell you anything. That was the salespeople's dirty work. We just go through a set of questions to determine if customers are qualified. If they met a certain criteria, they are invited to the office. Free gifts are given.

Besides the basic, we have commissions. Some telemarketers can easily earn thousands with just the commissions alone. But this isn't my thing.

I've never met my quota of 24.

Tele-fun

Got a call from The Hexagon today, trying to sell their credit cards.

If I remember, Lizzy wrote something similar before. Are you here? Hello?... Anyway, how do you handle them? The telemarketers? But whatever your way is, be gentle to them if they are not rude. They are merely doing their job.

My replies to them revolves around these variance,



Being nice,

"I'm not interested."



Being annoyed. If they're too persistent pushy,

"I'm. Not. Interested."



A half-lie,

"One of your colleague called me [insert period of date / time] ago. Please refer to him / her."



The truth,

"I'm not comfy in doing any sales through the phone. If I'm interested, I'll walk straight to the counter myself."



And, an experience,

"Wait, wait, wait. Before you go any further, I want you to know I was once in telesales before. I know how all these work... I'm not interested. But thanks for the effort."





Yes. I was one before.

More to come.

Re-tale

I've been reading these stuffs recently. Which reminded me of my own experience dealing with such customers. Some made my day. A small portion almost make me stomp on their pathetic face.

This was long before I'm an advertising slave.

After having a one-year stint at Old School Art College, I was working odd jobs here and there. My first was doing part time with Factory's Apparel Shop at French Hypermarket near my place.

There was once on a slow day, a pair of cute couple in their 60s came in. Kinda short. And plump. There's always smile on their face. Which makes us smile even more. From their look and the way they speak, I can tell they are well educated and came from a well-to-do background.



"Hello! What can I do for both of you? Do you have anything in mind?"

"Just looking around." The uncle smiled, in Cantonese.

"If you need anything, I'll just be around." From then on, I speak Cantonese to them.



I continue to fold shirts, sort sizes, and reorganizing shirts that don't belong where I found them, before I lepak at the register with the store supervisor. Just then, I saw them looking at some winter jackets for quite some time; the most expensive pieces in the store.

Seldom people even touch them because of the price.

This is how our paycheck work. Besides the basic, there is also the commissions. Every staffs will get a small percentage from each piece sold no matter who sell it. But this only applies to full time staffs. Too bad I'm only doing part time. Salary counted by the hours. But selling that is something I'm gonna be proud of.

I quickly rushed to them.



"Uncle, why not you give it a try?"



I took a red down. And gave it to him. He eagerly slide his arms in the sleeves. The wifey at back adjusting the hood, while he zipping the front. It does suits his plump figure. Even cuter now.

Checking himself out at the mirror nearby.



"It looks nice on you, uncle."

"Hmm..." He then looked up at other colours.

"The green one not bad also eh?"

I look at it. Speechless.



"Erm... it's... blue?"



The aunty smiling at me cheekily. Poking fun at her own husband. He's wearing an orange tint spectacles. Which made the blue look yellowish green. He blushed, and didn't smile again for the rest of the time they were there.

Let's just say they didn't buy anything.