Have A Nice Day

It is a bit of a stretch to say it, but it is generally true: every job I have done has been in the vague field of "customer service". This can take many forms, but I'm using it in the sense of "the general public may well contact me and try and get me to do things for them". Luckily, for the most part I have been snugly insulated from them by being in an office they won't be going in to. Another plus point is that the main focus of the job is not this: I'm not sat there literally all day answering the phone. I would not like that.

(I will remember to my dying day, the work colleague who sat opposite me becoming increasingly irritated by a phone call she had recieved, rolling her eyes throughout, eventually putting the phone down and muttering "cunt breath". I always get paranoid that if I try that, I will somehow not put the phone down correctly and will get busted, which generally isn't good, even if some people claim they find a bit of "Wong Kei" style rudeness refreshing)

I like to think that because of this I can, without being too much of a patronising idiot, see it from the other side if that's where I am. I write excellent complaint letters for example, I was delighted to discover recently.

But I bet those hapless people who have to deal with me think the same of me as I think of the people who I have to deal with.

In conclusion, everyone who has worked in customer service has had sentiments similar to this song going round their head at some point. Hooray for Brecht!