Customer Support

Adventures of a copy machine technician

Chapter 1 by knurpslquorg knurpslquorg

It was one of the days. If there was a chance that something could go wrong, it went wrong. It started with the milk I used to pour over my cereal. That morning, it came out of the bottle in cubes. So I went to work hungry. And as usual, I was late, but today it was because I had to stop at the restaurant with the two golden arches to get what they considered to be a breakfast. My boss was moody as always. His wife probably was on her period. However, he usually ignored my delays, because in his eyes, I am one of the best mechanics he has among his staff.
I work for the customer service of a major office equipment manufacturer. My job is the maintenance and repair of copy machines. This is actually a relatively quiet job as our devices are pretty reliable. Of course, this does not stop the sales department from selling unreasonably overpriced maintenance contracts alongside our machines.
"If something breaks, which happens very seldom, then you are always on the safe side with our maintenance contract - even after the warranty period ..." Blah blah blah ... Every day I heard the greasy-haired salespeople in their bad-fitting suits, serving this pitch to someone else. To be honest, you could completely disassemble and reassemble the copier every two months for the money, which such a three-year contract would cost, but this is usually kept secret from the customer. The reason should be clear.
Most of the time, the companies in which our devices are used are calling if it is too late, anyway. This usually means that two mechanics have to drive to the customer with a replacement device and the "patient" in our workshop has to be patched up again. Repairs on site are rather rare. But if so, then I'm one of three people who do it.
This day was one of those where all hell breaks loose. I had three on-site assignments in three different parts of the city, and none of them seemed to be easy. At least not according to the error descriptions that our hotline could get out of the customers. So, on suspicion, I packed the spare parts that matched the suspected bugs and set off. Why did the big parts always have to break down if I am the one to replace themduring my orders?
After I had exchanged a sorting unit, cleaned a few transport rollers and readjusted a paper feed, spent a total of four hours in traffic jams and had lunch at a chinese takeout, whose list of ingredients I probably do not want to know, I was looking forward to the end of my shift, which was actually two hours ago, but overtime brings money. I just wanted to go home.
But my boss seemed to have somrthing against it. My cell phone rang, "There's a problem with Anytise. Can you pass by quickly? "Anytise was our biggest customer. Unfortunately, our most demanding, too. An advertising agency in which the average employee has finished university three years ago, but now has at least one Audi or Benz in the garage due to the success of the company. Of course, Anytise had a maintenance contract, but they exploited it shamelessly. Those entitled brats would have preferred to even get the paper trays by customer service. At some point they overdid it so much that our company terminated the maintenance contract unilaterally. After lengthy disputes between our companies' lawyers, it was then agreed that the maintenance contract would be terminated and Anytise received a hefty rebate on the assembly services for future repairs.

Do I call overtime or closing time?

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