Don’t Drunk Dial Customer Care

Alcohol + Time = Weird.


Ask any alcoholic about the worst thing they did in a state on intoxication. Some have no memories or some wakeup in rooms they don’t remember getting into. Ninety percent of the times, its usually “ I sent a message or called someone I should never have!”. And then cried about it the next day?

Have you ever been so drunk that you drunk dialed customer care? Before you start judging me, in my defense, its not something I do every night. I am not in love with the call centers… just alcohol. Last week, I was leaving the club after drinking a couple of beers thanks to peer pressure. I was just the right amount of drunk… you know? When you know how to get home, but feels like you are levitating above the rest of the world. On my way out, a buddy of mine asked me to join him for one more drink back in his apartment. Just. One More.
With my manhood at stake, my ego on full boost and the love for a fellow alcoholics, I said yes! So, we got to his place for a drink… and had seven more.

Three hours later I took a cab home. Before hitting the bed, I had to finish my bedtime rituals. Stuff like brushing teeth, checking my Instagram feed, cross-checking doors and windows to ensure cats don’t drink my orange juice. (Yeh! the cats near my house are very sophisticated). As I was scrolling through my Instagram feed, I liked every photo on my way down the endless abyss of bullshit. It’s simple, Newton’s third law of social media: like someone’s photo and they, will like yours back. In my moment of aimless liking, my Instagram feed froze! No photos were loading. I had no idea what was happening. An exclamation point appeared on the mobile network graph. “Great!” I thought “The connection’s down. How? Why? I mean why would Airtel do this? HOW COULD THEY?”

I did the logical thing to do… after 10 drinks, I called customer care. I needed some answers. The lady on the other end sounded rude and oddly mechanical. It seemed as though she was reading off a script. In an unwelcoming voice, she said: “Press one for English”. How dare she tell me what to do? I hammered down ‘one’ on the screen, almost knocking the phone out of my hand; pressed 2 after that for “internet related queries”; then 9 to talk to someone who is just as mechanical as the IVR lady. 
“Your call will be recorded”, sure… Not like I’m getting an option. Have you ever thought about how our conversations with customer care might be used by them? Yeah.. me neither. In my drunk state of mind, all I wanted was for my call to get picked for “training purposes”.

A flute solo played for many seconds to test my patience but I actually seemed to like the track. Before I could Shazam it… my call got connected. I was angry and happy all at the same time. It felt like there was an unexpected holiday from work but it was also a dry day! 
“Hi, my name is Harish, thank you for calling Airtel. How may I help you?” Oh shit, I forgot what I needed help with. My mind was jogging down the day that went by, playing each moment in my head in fast forward like a cheap sitcom. I tried to buy time using some filler conversation. “Hey, Harish. How are you? How is the weather at the call center?”. A confused voice replied “Very well sir. How may I help you?”. Still unable to remember I took a long pause. Harish broke the silence and said, “ Sir, if you don’t respond I’ll have to cut your call ”. I panicked, “No! Hey Harish! Don’t cut the call!” An awkward silence followed.

Harish: “Sir, are you there? Please respond.” With my thoughts playing hide-n-seek, I panicked and cut the call. Ahhh! At this point, I was certain my call will be picked for “training purposes”.

Flustered by the turn of events, I walked into my kitchen and drank some orange juice (The cat was nowhere in sight). I brushed my teeth (again) and climbed into bed with a feeling of tremendous deja-vu. Before I closed my eyes, it was time to open Instagram to apply Newton’s third law. After the app opened, a message appeared on the screen…“No Internet Connection!”.

Then it hit me. Oh, SHIT!


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