De l’autre côté du téléphone

Friday, I finished a four weeks to start working in a call center. Long training, from 4:00 p.m. to 0:00, paid at the minimum wage of course. Formation in which we were taught to say no to say no without client.e.s, without using negative, because tse, the client.e.s pay for their services, so it could offending to receive non. We were taught to give refunds to client.e.s who complain loud enough and offer nothing to too gentil.le.s client.e.s to request (kind of measure that is tenfold the amount of assholes who will feel legitimate to send file to phone). We were also hammered how the measures the employer has taken to screech to a large part of their travailleurs.euses outside were needed and had a really great idea that would have no impact on access to services (What a bunch of crap).

It was claqué.e.s all this in order to start taking calls. We will go twelve dollars an hour, increase from the formation I agree, but still a crappy salary. For forty hours per week, we will sit down at a computer and we will take calls, one after the other, without really having the right to take breaks between calls (the only breaks possible, every four hours, being calculated at the second), and we should not speak more than five minutes with each client.e. for the sake of productivity. During those forty hours, we're going to get yelled, we will be sending shit, because people pay and so they and have the right to do anything, to tell all. It is more of humain.e.s it is the company and it's ok to send a shit company.

But I digress from the main reason that prompted me to write this. We all and all the shit jobs anyway. So, Friday I finished my training. Sixteen other colleagues ended it with me. Four weeks, four tests to verify our ability to go for information in our forty twelve programs, all this fairly quickly because productivity and satisfaction of client.e.s. oblige. Oh and you have to take the tests 85% because errors are not really acceptable. During these four weeks, does not want, links have been established between the different-e-s-e-s participating because after all, colleagues, these are the people we see most in the week, more than blonde or boyfriend, more than ami.e.s, more than Mom or Dad. So we had decided to have a potluck that day, issue to celebrate the end of training. Each person had cooked a little something and many of my colleagues had decided to prepare a dish from their country of origin. The last of the tests took place shortly before the potluck. Two of my colleagues have not had the best grades (while being very acceptable), les boss ont donc décidé de les renvoyer sur le champ après quatre semaine de formation, et à deux jour de commencer à prendre des appels…

La salle de formation est au sixième étage et la salle de dîner au septième : Une des deux est montée dans la salle de dîner pour ramasser les plats qu’elle avait préparés et repartir chez elle. Elle nous a expliqué la situation, a fondu en larmes et est partie, ayant trop honte pour rester avec nous. La seconde n’est jamais montée, ayant trop honte de se présenter devant des personnes qu’elle avait côtoyée durant un mois à raison de quarante heures par semaine. La pression qui nous était mise sur les épaules durant la formation était telle que deux personnes ont eues honte d’elles-mêmes après avoir coulé un test avec des attentes ridicules et franchement avec des questions beaucoup trop ambiguës.

here. Ce n’est pas clair pourquoi j’écris ce matin, avant de commencer ma première journée sur le plancher. Probablement pour ventiler. Peut-être aussi pour qu’on se rappelle que des patrons gentil.le.s qui viennent nous parler et qui nous montrent des petits tours de magies pour nous faire rire, ben ça reste des osties de patrons qui vont nous sacrer dehors pour un oui ou pour un non, qui vont nous traiter comme un ordinateur ou comme une machine à café. On reste de la totaly fucking fourniture de bureau…

On va par contre s’en rappeler de tout ça. On va s’en rappeler et un jour, le rapport de force va changer et ce sont les patrons qu’on va traiter en chaises brisées et qu’on va crisser aux vidanges…

Solidarity,

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