A story that I had posted to an earlier iteration of this website, more than a decade ago:
One day at First Union [where I worked as a client services supervisor in a call center from 1998 to 2000] the phones were jammed with calls regarding a new fee the bank was charging. I had explained it for two straight days and was getting tired of doing so. I could hear the rep on the other side of my cubicle struggling with a call about said fee, so I dialed her number and used my supervisor powers to listen to her call. As soon as I did so, the customer demanded a supervisor. Before the rep even contacted me, I asked her to transfer the call to me.
For my team’s entertainment, I put my phone on speaker, so it could listen to me put this customer in his place (a move to boost morale). I introduced myself and let the caller voice his complaint. Then, as I had done dozens of times before in the previous two days, I read the small print at the bottom of the account agreement that bascially said First Union could charge any fee of any amount at anytime. The client was silent. I hit the mute button and let out a “Boo-Yah!”
“What was that? Boo-Yah? What’s your boss’s name?!?,” he shot back. Crap. “Uh, uh…” While I had muted my phone, there was a second headset hooked up to it. I yelled boo-yah so loudly that the customer had heard it through that microphone.
Speaker phone off. Feet off the desk. Me sitting straight up in my chair, giving my undivided attention to this kind customer. He asked for my boss’s name and I provided it—something I never did. I explained the fee again and apologized for the manner in which First Union disclosed it. He said, “You can go back to watching Sportscenter, asshole,” and hung up.