Working at the Bosch Tossimo Recall Hotline

*A guest post by Sara M.*

In the midst of a third-life crisis, I packed my car and moved myself from Washington, DC to Portland, OR. I knew that finding work would be tough, but I decided that it was a fair price to pay for a chance to make it in the land of easy living and flannel. So far, I’m scraping by on temp work. My latest temp assignment has me working at a call center from 5am to noon; I consider it my penance for being another transplant muddying up the job market here. However, as far as call centers go, it’s probably not the worst deal. We’re taking calls regarding a huge product recall on a single serving Bosch Tassimo coffee brewer. It seems that millions of these brewers have a defective piece that can cause scalding. Mostly though, it just causes dissatisfaction:

Me: Bosch Tossimo recall hotline, this is Sara, what can I do for you today?

An old man starts his list of grievances about this whole recall. I tell him I can help him, but the conversation goes like this:

Me: Sir, I can take care of this for you, please tell me your first name.

Caller: Dr. Bronner.

Me: What is your first name. I need your first name.

Caller: It’s Dr. Bronner.

Me: I’m sorry, sir, I thought I asked for your first name, not your profession.

Caller: Well, I’m a doctor.

Me: It doesn’t matter that you’re a doctor, sir, I’m going to treat you like everyone else. (That’s right, everyone gets the same crappy service on my line.)

Caller: Richard.

And sometimes calls get off topic. I’m supposed to stick to the script, but that doesn’t seem to limit what my customers bring to the call. Midway through a call from a saucy older woman in Las Vegas, a small pack of dogs started yapping excitedly. Then I heard her scream, “Cut it out! Are you on my antique table? Don’t make me get the strap!”

It’s a laugh a minute down at the call center.  

The wonderful thing about the Bosch Tassimo brewer is that it makes everyone feel like they’ve got a little bit of fancy right on their counter. It’s a pseudo-luxury good purchased by new money and no money alike. Much like premium cable packages, it’s enjoyed by everyone from businessmen in Vancouver, to housewives in New Jersey, to yokels in Saskatchewan. Now everyone can relish the modern luxury of mid-grade coffee, tea, espresso, or hot chocolate, one cup at a time, at the touch of a button. It’s so easy to use that just about everybody went out and bought one for their cranky old mother-in-law this Christmas. The machine takes the guess work out of gadgetry: it reads a barcode off of every plastic disc of coffee and spits out the appropriate amount of piping hot water. 

But perfection is an elusive ghoul; it seems this little gem of a machine has a dark side. Thus far, millions of poor, unsuspecting consumers have had piping hot water, grounds, and even tea leaves spewed at them. Only 137 have been hospitalized. Those seem like winning odds to me. 

It’s ok though, we have a solution! Take back the whole machine? Don’t be silly. We’re just going to send you a new piece that you, the consumer who purchased this machine specifically marketed to your technical ineptitude, can install yourself in less than 60 seconds.

Phase 2 of my stint at the recall hotline is helping people install the replacement part. The first two weeks of phase 2 were a dream. Due to a faulty web form, most Canadians were unable to register online to receive the part, so they called me and we chatted and they thought I was solving all of their problems. It was grand. However, things are getting dicey now that people are receiving their replacement parts:

Caller: I installed that plastic thing that you sent me and now my machine won’t turn on/spews even more water/is speaking in tongues.

Of course I have no choice but to feign surprise, as though this is the first time anyone has had trouble with this: “Oh, that’s strange, I’m sorry to hear that.”

The helplessness of the dissatisfied consumer produces varying reactions and it’s always fun to see how it will next manifest. Last week, one fellow in Quebec told me, “It looks like I am going to have to call my lawyer to get any of this resolved. This is bullshit. I know it’s not your fault, thanks for your help, you have a very lucky boyfriend.” Oh, thanks, pal. I'm pretty sure I was supposed to giggle girlishly, but we don’t work for tips at the call center.

FINAL ASSESSMENT:

40 Rings out of 50!

That’s right! This experience has given me some insight into the inner workings of modern consumer courting. If that’s not enough of a treat, I get to read all day. I’m getting paid to sit and read book upon book. It’s like being in college, but nobody is wearing those ghastly sweatpants that have things emblazoned on the ass.