Together
Metrix love them hate them
Top box CSAT bottom box DSAT
What makes or breaks a rep
Or Team Leader or support
Your stats are my stats
My stats are your stats
We’re in this crap together
The call centre job
Love it hate it do it together
Top or bottom never middle

Metallica Calls
The guy listens to Metallica online while taking calls off customers
His TL knows of this and lets him do it for the rep gets good sales
Each and every day 4 or more sales earning a nice incentive
Rewards and Recognition days are a breeze he sells the items
Coffee makers toasters microwaves rice cookers fridges etc
He could have his own kitchen wares distribution company
All due to top metrix while listening to Metallica online

Easy NTEs
NTEs were issued like candy to kids
Given to low performing reps
Who has bad metrix like no sales
Plus time keeping or tardiness
All accepted them without issue
Writing why on the back
Part of the BPO experience
An easy way out if need be

NTE Yourself!
NTEs were given out each month
To the reps with low or no sales
In time there were no reps on the account
The Fake God was left alone
Just him and his support to call
They each wanted two fifty k a month
To do the work of ten reps
It was physically impossible
But they went for it and failed
Would they give NTEs to themselves?

Maybe I give myself too much credit: that I am good, I am doing better, I am great at my craft, that I have something to show everyone when in reality I am just average at best. What else do I show of myself that is worth a praise more than just “you did your best”? How bare do I have to be for people to pay attention to me? Maybe I am just having a bad day that has been going on for 182 days. But at the end of it all, I am just a mere performance worth 59% rotten tomatoes, it’s more than half, but barely fresh. At least I did my best? What other ******* do I have to say to myself so I don’t end up crying with a blade in my hand? It seems that trying is just never going to get me far, and the best I can give everyone is this: the mediocre poet who dreamed too high and fell so deep she died on sea. She had wings too weak and dreams too heavy that the only place she could reach was the clouds of 9, where she could only see from a few feet afar before she landed and died. That is the only thing I can offer.

I can be a wretched fake, in private, intimate performance.

I’m an actress capable of imitating spontaneous pleasure -
by tricks of hesitation, convulsive vocal play and postures.

A mimicry undetectable to an immediate spectator.

"Aww, thank you", I’ll sigh, as if leaving a good party.

“I’ve got a lot of homework to do,” I’ll add, a minute later.

To clear the stage.

the curtain’s wearing down
the wood is getting squeaky
i forgot my line
“line?”
the mask is falling off
the paint is chipping
the backdrop's missing
i forgot my line
“line?”
nothing looks the same
it’s felt off for a while
make up running
crew is gone
i’m alone
one man show
“line!”
i forgot my line
full house
crowd is here
show must go on
one man show
i forgot my line
they’re watching
they’re waiting
waiting to laugh
waiting to smile
where is my smile
what was my line
one man show
all alone
show must go on
so weak
so bleak
try to speak
“line?”
eyes close
head falls
deep breath
shoulders drop
i can’t pretend today
“And scene.”

Dramatic I strike my deep bow
Stage lights warming the back of my neck

      Another show finished
              And time for the next

I change costumes and greet the regular cast
Shaking hands and reading scripts

      Finally… my cue, I exit stage left
              Passing the curtains, Sighing in relief

When the sun sets, flecking clouds with diaphanous light and birds whistle daytime’s last summer psalms, we call it night.

We’re moonbathing and Sunny’s features are inlaid with glamorous silver-blue patines. We’ll reawaken soon, our time is measured in assignments, not in hours, days or even seasons.

Responsibility is a villain of our own devices. You can run from it, bolt your door against it, only to find it’s right there - in back of you - smiling like a tiger or a parent.

Unfortunately, the university isn’t a hotel. It’s more of a competition, like those survivor shows.

We’ll enjoy the moonlight, for a few, laconic moments, for it seems to possess a sweet power to cool and calm, but soon our purposes will call, irresistibly, and we’ll return to the performance.