SMSes of a SalesMan

“Call him now, how can’t the bloody connection work?” Came the roar from one of my roommates. He was a software engineer, usually a calm and composed fellow, but it is strange how being disconnected from internet for a few minutes can impact human beings these days!!!!

His anger was visible, even when he spoke with the agent from the service provider. The agent came at our flat at 10:30 PM. All of us, frustrated by loss of our net connection, shouted on him at once. Then began the long list of complaints that the speed is too slow, multiple connections are not working properly, router is not functioning well etc.

While we were venting our anger, he was quietly trying to assess the problem. The computer engineer friend told him that this was an error in technical part and that he (a salesman) was quite incapable of solving it. “You better send one of your technical support staff people, rather than you running around each time.” He was very rude, however all thought that such a treatment to the person, at 10:30 in night after a whole day’s work was acceptable, justified, natural and right!!!

At times our sense of right and wrong change at such rapid pace!!!!

The scene continued for a little while and that fellow was further humiliated by us.

Then, he asked me to note down one of the numbers of the technical support staff from his cell phone. “It must be in one of the messages, please note it down while I will give it a last chance.”

Meanwhile it dawned to us (so late) that we had not even offered water to the man, in such bad summer at so lat an hour. This fault was quickly corrected and chilled water was offered to him.

While searching for the number, I had to go through some of the SMSes in his phone. One that caught my eye first was this

“Finish the target today otherwise forget about the leave you applied for”

After some messages, another caught my eye,

“Do I need to remind you how slow we have been, come on, be fast or else everyone’s payment for the week will be stopped from above.” The tone of the message was threatening.

Fortunately I soon got the number I was looking for, then I put his phone down. Our problem could not be solved and he left our flat at around midnight.

But his exit left me with another problem, why do we see some tasks as inherently shameful, shabby, stigmatic and inferior than others.

To be honest, I perhaps do not have the courage to keep working under such threatening communications from the superior and such disrespectful treatments from customers, even out of sheer helplessness.

Are not all jobs same and all men equal?