I heart Frat Boy.

I wanted to hug Frat Boy the other day. I was in a bad mood from the start, although now I can't remember why. But people were just pissing me the fuck off. And it just got worse and worse. People had just taken extra stupid pills or something.

Now, I almost never pawn calls off on a supervisor. But one guy ... there was nothing I could do for him. He was throwing an absolutely motherfucking fit. And why? Well, a technician had been to his house and swapped out some equipment. The tech then took the old equipment with him. Well, the tech didn't enter the equipment into the system promptly, so our system automatically sent an empty box so the customer could return it. So the guy called; we apologized, made sure he would not incur any charges, and told him basically not to worry about it. This was all noted on the account by the department with final authority on these situations. So basically, there was no reason for this fuckface to be calling me.

But, being a fuckface, he was. And he was completely freaking out ... because when he got home that day, he had a "Sorry we missed you!" sticker from UPS, attempting to pick up the box. He wasn't home when UPS came; it in no way inconvenienced him. But this idiot was yelling at me about how incompetent our company is, why can't we get this right, etc. I assured him again that he would not be charged, as that's most peoples' concern. Oh, he didn't care about that. He just went on and on about how he was spending hours and hours of his time on the phone because "you're incompetent." After ten minutes of this, I was at my wit's end. I wanted to ask him what the fuck he'd like me to do. Instead I politely asked if he could hold for a moment.

"I won't wait long!" he snapped. I didn't even respond, just put him on hold and went to Frat Boy. "This guy won't stop yelling at me. There's nothing we can do, he's just pissed off UPS stopped at his house, but he won't get off the phone. Will you talk to him?"
"I can't do anything, but sure."
"I know, he's just an ass." I shrugged and went back to the phone. "Thank you for holding, sir. At this point I'd like to get you over to my supervisor."
"Why?"
"Because you don't seem to be satisfied with the information I can give you," I said kind of impatiently.
"Oh fine, I'll just explain this allllllll over again. You people are ridiculous."
I just transferred him .... and then sat in after call to listen to Frat Boy talk to him. I laughed my ass off when I heard "Thank you for holding, this is Frat Boy, how can I ....." and then in his most disgusted possible tone, "don't tell me what I'm going to do."

The guy hung up and Frat Boy just grinned at me. "The first thing he said was 'this is what you're going to do!' What a jackass."

But that was nothing compared to a call I got a couple of hours later. I don't know if this man was drunk, or stupid, or mentally challenged, but I couldn't understand any of his inarticulate screaming. About the only thing I could understand were the swear words. After several minutes of him ranting and not letting me speak, I was able to discern he was having a technical issue of some type -- "this goddamn fucking piece of garbage is broken!"
"I'm sorry you're having trouble sir, let's find out what's happening. Can I get your name please?" I said as calmly as possible.
The response I got was a roar of "LISTEN, BITCH!" and some more incoherent bitchery. Most days I'd have at least attempted to calm him down, but I was sooooo done. I waved at Frat Boy and once I caught his eye I said very loudly, "Sir, if you call me a BITCH one more time, I will hang up on you."

Oooooh, Frat Boy did not like that. His eyes bugged out, his jaw clenched, and he said, "You send him to me right now!"
I tried to tell the jackass I was going to transfer him, but he wasn't listening. I sent him over.
Frat Boy did his greeting, and then said, "I understand you're having problems. But the next time you call, you will be polite. You will be professional. And you will not yell or swear at my agents. If you do, I will lock your account and you will no longer by welcome as a customer. Do you understand me? Good." And he slammed the phone down!

Even better, Frat Boy kept checking the guy's account regularly to see a) if he called back and b) if there were any notes about him being rude. The guy did call, but apparently behaved himself ... that time. Frat Boy still has the account number and he's keeping an eye on him.

I was so grateful to have somebody sticking up for me that I almost cried.