Free Confessions of a Call Center Gal: a novel by Lisa Lim

researched, and they continually open my eyes to new facets of history. I have learned more history from romance novels than I have from eighteen years of schooling. Hmm. I realize now that I overreacted.
    I flick Mika a sideways glance. “So, any plans this weekend?”
    He keeps his eyes on the road. “I’ll be hitting the slopes up at Pebble Creek. We’re supposed to be getting a ton of fresh powder tonight. It’s going to be epic!”
    “You’re going skiing?” I ask airily.
    He puts on an indignant air. “Um, no. I’m going boarding.”
    “Oh, sorrrrry, ” I say with a trace of sarcasm. “I didn’t mean to ignite the feud between you riders and skiers.”
    He rewards me with a wry smile. “Skiers? Could you possibly be referring to those wanker two plankers with prissy poles who deck themselves out in neon onesies?”
    I giggle. “So, when you’re not tearing down the mountain in your plastic tray, your assignment from me this week is to read the book and mags in your spare time.”
    “Yes ma’am,” he says, pulling his car into Janis’ driveway.
    Yes, I still live there with Karsynn .
    Mika stalls the engine and turns to face me. “Thanks again, Madison.” And for a little while, his gaze lingers.
    “Anytime,” I say in a stilted voice, inching out of my seat. I step out of the car, slam the door, and fly down the path.
    Wrestling with the lock, I throw a glance over my shoulder.
    Mika waves at me through the lightly tinted windows.
    I wave back.

Six
     
     
     
     
    B eep!
    “Thanks for calling Lightning Speed. This is Maddy, how can I help?” I ask on autopilot.
    And then the strangest thing happens. The customer actually starts spelling.
    “M-y   n-a-m-e   i-s   B-e-n   W-r-i-g-h-t,” he spells. Spells!!!
    W-T-F ?!?
    “I   w-a-n-t   t-o   s-p-e-a-k   t-o   t-h-e   C-E-O,” he orders, and yes, he is still spelling.
    Yeah, they all want to speak to our CEO, Siegfried Miles, like Siegfried sits around all day twiddling his thumbs, just waiting to speak to fuming customers. Siegfried has a company to run for Pete’s sake.
    I give the speller the standard spiel. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wright, our CEO is unavailable to take calls, but you can write a letter and mail it to his office if you’d like.”
    Not surprisingly, the speller doesn’t take this kindly.
    He flips out and starts spelling again, this time an octave higher. “N-O! N-O! N-O!”
    Oh my God. This guy is such a hoot!
    Oddly enough, all this spelling is infectious.
    On impulse, I start spelling myself, “Y-E-S   Y-E-S   Y-E-S.”
    “M-A-N-A-G-E-R!” he yells and spells.
    Uh oh, I guess he isn’t amused.
    “O-K,” I say politely, not wanting to antagonize him further.
    Drats! That’s too bad. I was enjoying the call and I wanted to spell some more with Mr. Wright. We were just about to get into a spelling spar and he had to go and end it.
    What a buzzkill.
    Oh well, hopefully I’ll get him next time. He sure broke up the monotony of my calls. How refreshing! A speller!
    Time to go get The Führer .
    I stride over to her cubicle and stand there until she notices me. It doesn’t take long.
    “Yessssssssss?” she hisses.
    “Um, I have a caller who wants to speak to a manager. And he’s very upset.”
    Hillary shoots me a terse look. “For future reference, I would prefer that you phrase it like this: I have an escalation, and the caller is irate, ” she snaps. “You work at a call center and I expect you to speak call center lingo!”
    I stare at her, unblinking. She’s obviously barking mad.
    “So tell me, what’s going on now?” Hillary’s voice is laced with irritation. “Why is the caller irate?”
    I’m quite taken by the Spelling Bee, and I find myself feeling slightly protective over him. “Well, he’s actually really nice. But I think he may have some sort of speech impediment. So...um, he spells.” I cast a lopsided grin.
    The Führer says nothing.
    And so I carry on explaining, “At