We’ve all felt the frustration of tying to get things sorted through telephone call centres (Lord knows I had a nightmare trying to get the Frankenlab’s Hearse insured after Igor added the twin turbo) but how many of us spare a thought for the poor operative on the other end of the line? This mini adventure from Andrew and Jane explores what happens when one telesales girl can’t take it any more (but are you on the side of our heroine or the assailant who presumably couldn’t afford his premiums?).
Jenny had been crying again. But she was forcing a smile under her telephone headset, as the inspirational poster on the office wall insisted, so that the callers wouldn’t know. There were already lights blinking on her station, and she sighed. She felt a sudden urge to flea. The responsibility was like a crushing weight pinning her to her chair. She shut her eyes, wrenched herself into an upright position and started to run. She sped past streets, chip shops and supermarkets without looking back. A car drew forward, across her path, and she tried to turn down the street it had come out of, but collided with its passenger door, and a strong hand grabbed her arm through the window. “Don’t move I’ve got you, but If you turn around I’ll have to shoot you.” He wrenched her through the glass and with an interminable smashing of shards in the sunlight she fell from his grip and landed back in her chair.
(see the original story here)
Telephonically yours,