Wrong Side of Time

Chapter Two – Carrie’s Bright Idea

Chapter Two – Carrie’s Bright Idea

CARRIE RESTED HER CHIN in her hand and twirled a pencil as the customer on the phone ranted on and on about how the T-flange on his inducifier wasn’t working; how much he’d paid for it; and how he expected better for the price and better service now that it needed repairing. As he slowed down a little Carrie took a breath and opened her mouth to reply, but the customer had got a second wind. He launched into another tirade.

She didn’t blame him for being angry. She would be angry too if she’d paid good money for an inducifier—whatever that was—and then been led on a wild goose chase to get the thing fixed or replaced when it broke. But her empathy for the customers didn’t make it any easier for her to sit and listen to their complaints, especially when she couldn’t do much to help.

In her lower management role of supervisor, Carrie had been invited to a few meetings. At these times she’d taken the opportunity to explain how the complaints procedure wasn’t working and that it left the customers unsatisfied and sometimes angry. She was no businesswoman, and her role was the first serious job she’d ever held, but she was sure it was terrible business practice to provide such poor after-sales service.

As the customer raved on, she looked across the office at Dave. Her friend was taking a call and typing on his keyboard. She sighed, wishing he would turn round and give her a wave. A friendly smile from him every now and then made her job a little easier. She’d never really gelled with the rest of her colleagues, who were mostly older than her and had families. They tolerated her presence and didn’t seem bothered that their supervisor was a fair bit younger than them, but they never mixed with her.

“Hey, are you listening? Are you actually even listening to me?” The irate customer’s voice broke through Carrie’s reverie, bringing her back to the present with a jolt.

“Oh...I...er,” she spluttered.

“For goodness sake,” exclaimed the man. The phone went dead.

“Whoops,” Carrie said quietly as she hung up. Listening to people who had a lot to say had never been one of her strengths. Though she’d got better at it recently, sometimes she slipped back into her old ways. She rested her chin in her hand again. Another unsatisfied customer.

No lights flashed on her display. For the moment there were no calls waiting. Carrie opened a folder and went over the proposal she’d put to the managerial team the day before, outlining a better system for dealing with complaints. Her new process did away with the endless questions to customers about irrelevant facts and useless suggestions. It cut nearly straight through to making an appointment for a service engineer to pay a visit, which was the end stage of the current complaints process she rarely reached before the customers gave up.

Carrie read through her proposal again and nodded to herself. It would work, as far as she could tell, and it made sense. It would save everyone time and increase customer satisfaction, which would result in repeat sales and higher profits. Everyone would win, and Carrie’s job would be a lot easier. She recalled the surprised looks and murmurs from the managers as they read her document, and her mood lightened. Her line manager, Ms. Bass’, response had been very encouraging. The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that they would accept her suggestions. Maybe they would even offer her a promotion. She’d shown initiative. Instead of whining about the problem, she’d presented a solution.

Dave was still busy with his call. She hadn’t yet told him about her plan. He was never interested in work things. To him, working in the call centre was just a job to pay his rent and living expenses, with hopefully enough left over for beer money, and that was it. Just something mildly unpleasant to get through each day. He didn’t take much in life seriously. Carrie wondered if that might change now that he too had become a Transgalactic Intercultural Community Crisis Liaison Officer. Dave pressed a key and took off his headset. The call he was taking had ended. He took out his phone and began to play a game.

Carrie went over, bringing her folder. She wanted to share her excitement about her scheme. Dave put down his phone as she arrived. She explained her proposal to her friend, pointing to the new steps. Her friend’s face displayed a polite interest, but every so often his eyes would flick to his phone.

“So, what do you think?” Carrie asked.

“Hmm...yes. Well done.”

Carrie frowned. He didn’t seem to share her enthusiasm. “The managers were all very interested yesterday when I showed it to them at the weekly meeting. Ms. Bass was eager to get going on it, in fact.” This wasn’t strictly true. Ms. Bass hadn’t said anything concrete. But Dave’s lacklustre response had made Carrie defensive.

Dave’s eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” A flush began to creep over Carrie’s cheeks.

“Okay.” Her friend picked up his phone and swiped the screen, returning it to the game he’d been playing.

“What do you mean, okay?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. It’s a good proposal, Carrie. You did a good job.”

Carrie’s lips tightened. Dave could be maddening at times. He would hint at things but not say what he really meant. It was as though he thought she would overreact. She pulled a chair over and sat down. At the same time Dave gave a barely audible sigh.

“You can’t say ‛don’t worry about it’ then expect me not to worry about it. Tell me what you mean. What’s wrong with my proposal? You know what things are like around here. It’s a miracle we manage to sell anything at all. With our awful customer service, our reputation must be terrible.”

Dave put his phone face down on his desk. He folded his arms as he looked at her. “I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m just saying you’re naive if you think they’re going to do anything about it. Don’t forget, I’ve been working here a lot longer than you. I’ve seen ten or more supervisors come and go in that time. You’re the first to last as long as you have, and from the sound of it you won’t be around much longer. Do you think the others didn’t try to change things? Of course they did, and management nodded and smiled and said all the right words but did absolutely nothing.”

Naive? Naive? “I’m not naive.”

Dave rubbed his forehead, wincing as his hand strayed near the spot Toodles had scratched. “Maybe that was the wrong choice of word. What I mean is, management won’t tell you to your face they’re going to ignore your suggestions. They’ll make all kinds of noises to mollify you and get you to shut up, but I can almost guarantee they won’t do a thing. How long have you been pointing out the problems with the complaints process to Bass, and what has she done about it?”

Frowning, Carrie closed her folder and picked it up. “I don’t care how long you’ve been working here, Dave. You weren’t there at the meeting. The managers were really interested. All of them.” She stood. “And I’m NOT naive.”

Returning to her desk, she dropped her folder onto it and sat down with a thump. What a cheek. She knew now why she hadn’t told Dave about her idea. He was such a Debbie Downer. Always looking on the dark side of everything, finding something negative.

She shook her head. It was sad, really. He could be so much happier if he tried to stay a little more positive. She anticipated his look of surprise when he learned that her proposals had been accepted and management put a new system in place. A system she had created.

Carrie shifted her mouse. Her screen saver disappeared. She hadn’t had time to check her emails when she first arrived. Her line had been already ringing with a complaint. She would catch up with them in the lull. Top of the list was a message from Ms. Bass, which she had sent a couple of hours before Carrie had arrived.

Her heart lightened as she clicked on the subject line. Was this the news that the company had accepted her proposals? She would waste no time in forwarding the email to Dave if it was. That would show him.

Dear Ms. Hatchett

It is with regret I must inform you that, due to internal restructuring, your position has been made redundant, effective immediately.

As you have been working with us for less than six months, you are not entitled to any redundancy pay. In light of this we would like to extend a gesture of goodwill. You are not required to work out your notice period. This evening will be your final shift. Please make sure to collect all your belongings before you leave.

We thank you for your service and wish you all the best in your future endeavours.

Yours sincerely,

Ms. F. Bass