Housekeeping

Buck was about to get to work on another blog entry when he realized that he’d left a few unfinished threads in previous entries. It was time to take care of some housecleaning before diving into new waters.

“First,” wrote Buck of himself using the third person format within quotation marks in a transparently gratuitous attempt to maintain the stylistic theme of the blog, “Buck emerged victorious in his battle against [Evil Credit Card Company #1] and [Evil Credit Card Company #2]. Visiting the branch location of […#1] turned out to be the key to victory. A certain Ms. Pretty [not her real name] was available to assist him, and Buck turned on the ol’ charm, portraying himself to her as an easy-going, whimsical soul caught in a bewildering and somewhat humorous bureaucratic conundrum, and instilling in her a sense of supreme confidence in her ability to help him successfully solve it. Of the background history he shared only the relevant facts which had brought him to her, and failed to mention the several nasty emails he had already fired off at random enemy reps which had successfully [following the previous blog entry] gotten some serious attention. He also provided the key paperwork provided by […#2] using […#1]’s logo outlining the phone numbers to call and the rules pertaining to closing his account without having to pay the annual membership fee.

“While Buck patiently observed Ms. Pretty dialing first the numbers on the paperwork, then the numbers provided to Buck via email from […#1]’s customer care reps, and finally a number obtained from her own Rolodex, he was amused to see that she was quickly becoming as frustrated as he was. To keep the encounter light-hearted he ventured a wry hypothesis that […#2]’s cardholder retention strategy was to make it impossible for cardholders and their proxies to reach them, and this comment had precisely the desired effect. She laughed, which meant she thought Buck was funny, and people almost always like people they think are funny. This meant she would try harder to assist him, and she did become angrier with […#2] because she recognized the truth of his observation. Suddenly Buck could see in her eyes that she was more determined than ever to close Buck’s account for him.”

Buck glanced nervously behind him to make sure nobody was observing him in the act of posting a blog entry. He was on his third day at a new client, although in the end it was just a different flavor of the same old Cubopolis. He was not likely to be observed, since he was five levels below ground and situated not in a cubicle, but rather in an abandoned printer room. Still, the room was arranged such that his back was to the door. He would have to be careful.

“After twenty minutes of VRU* navigation madness,” he continued, “Ms. Pretty got through to a human being representing […#2], who asked to speak to Buck directly to confirm some personal information and try to retain him as a customer. When this representative informed Buck that she could close the account but could not waive the fee, Buck opened up his official document and read aloud verbatim what it said on this topic. The words he spoke were, of course, in direct opposition to her claim that the fee could not be waived. Then Buck got to listen to some nice music while the representative spoke to her manager. While enjoying the soothing music he pictured the scene in his mind, the manager telling the rep that fees will not be waived, the rep replying that the customer seemed to have been reading off of something, and the manager scolding the rep not to assume anything. After a few minutes the music abruptly ended and true to form, the rep asked him what he was reading from. Buck happily obliged her and described the document and its origins to her, reading her several passages from several sections and describing for her in blistering detail the contents of the small print in the section pertaining to closing accounts and the manner in which fees would be waived. Then Buck got to listen to some nice music again (but was frustrated that the music didn’t continue somewhere in the middle of the composition but instead took him right back to the beginning of the exact same recording), and eventually the manager caved to the inevitability of his or her doom. Buck then had to persuade her manager (again, indirectly via the poor assaulted rep whose average call handle time was going through the roof) that it was necessary that a confirmation letter be sent to his home address, including the fact that the account had been closed and the membership fee waived.”

To make a long story short (or is it already too late for that?), Buck ultimately got his letter in the mail.

“Second,” he typed, remembering that he had mentioned unfinished threads (note the plural), “Buck felt it was time to revisit some of his initial goals regarding this blog to see if they were still valid.”

Let’s see, he thought, what were those two goals? Oh yeah: they were catharsis and practice writing fiction. Well, he had to admit that it was at least somewhat cathartic to write the blogs. He seemed in better spirits overall since he had started, and he had learned from what little fan support he had received thus far that he was not alone. Other cubicle dwellers out there were feeling trapped within the system and trying to fake their way through unscathed. Additionally, how cathartic did it have to be, he wondered, when it served the wonderful yet simple purpose of distracting him from more important tasks at hand? Tasks such as, for example, the analysis his client was paying him to perform?

As for the blog serving as a means for Buck to practice writing fiction, it was undoubtedly wonderful for that, as clearly the blog itself was one giant work of fiction. Certainly no professional consultant would take so much time to write such an extensive blog on his clients’ time, and it was way beyond the bounds of believability to conceive that a man whose greatest talent and unshakable vice was chronic procrastination could succeed so spectacularly in the role of project manager in any Cubopolis setting. No, clearly the blog was a complete work of fiction, perhaps written by a professional provocateur, or maybe a man with nothing better to do in his off hours.

Or was that last paragraph the fiction?

Buck signed off for the day, and promised his readers pictures of the new snake he purchased last weekend in his next post.


* VRU is short for “Voice Response Unit,” the systems you deal with before you get a real human at the other end - but then, you probably already knew that, and if you didn’t, then you’re clearly not a resident of Cubopolis and 90% of the so-called ‘humor’ in this blog is lost on you anyways.