“Thank you for calling AR-Prom. Have a great rest of your day.” Ben ended the call with a satisfied nod. He pulled his headset off and laid it down gently over his keyboard. With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and rubbed his dry eyes. “Brew time, me thinks.”
He looked over the dining room table which doubled as his work desk. It was scattered with a smorgasbord of brown envelopes and furious red-banded letters.
The kitchen was gloomy as he hadn’t bothered to open the curtains; it was easier to roll out of bed onto his computer to start his shift. Perks of working from home; an hour to lie in. Plus he can work in the comfort of his dressing gown.
He filled the kettle and prepared a teabag in a fat, round mug. “Ugh.” Ben caught his reflection in the microwave glass. “I need a haircut.”
The kettle whistled enthusiastically and he poured his tea. He sipped it while reading a letter he had left on the kitchen counter. Electric bill. “Fuck sake, they’ll have my blood next. I barely use anything but the kettle and my fuckin’ computer.” He tossed the bill into the sink and meandered back to the dining room.
The tea mug took its rightful place atop the ring stains on the left-hand side of his keyboard. He clicked open his calendar and narrowed his eyes. A surprise one-to-one had been put in right after his break. His heart sped up and he reached for the comfort of his tea mug. His emails offered no insight into the meeting being brought forward. Emails had trickled to a standstill over the past month. Basic company-wide comms and confirmation of meeting invites were all he had.
Ben tried to think of any tricky customers he had dealt with, perhaps one of them had made some vexatious complaint. Their feedback could be considerably vicious at times and it was an irritating moment of his day when he had to defend himself from clearly nonsense claims by the customers. Yet the company he worked for had this pathetic “customer is always right” philosophy and the management had to make a show of every issue for the higher-ups.
The clock ticked to half ten and his manager instantly joined the meeting. He raised his eyebrows. “Someone’s keen.” Ben sipped his tea once more and spent a minute glancing through emails. His cursor hovered over the join button, he took a deep breath and clicked.
“Good morning, Ben.”
“Morning, Pete.”
“You’re a minute late.”
Ben chuckled, Pete had that dry sense of humour.
“It’s important to demonstrate punctuality, you were on a break running up to this session.”
Ben frowned, he didn’t have his camera on so his confusion wasn’t on display. “Right, yeah.” Something about the exchange sent a plunging feeling down in his gut.
“Thank you, Ben. Welcome to your one-to-one.”
“Cheers, why the earlier time? Didn’t expect it to be brought forward by a week. Has some arsehole made a complaint?”
Pete hesitated before responding, it seemed like petty amateur dramatics. “Please don’t speak about our customers that way, I’ll let this infraction slide, but keep your language pleasant and your attitude positive when we discuss things.”
Ben’s eyes widened. Pete often used the gamut of put-downs to refer to their beloved customers. “Alright, sorry.” Ben cleared his throat and pulled up the direct messages to his boss: Are we being recorded or something?
Pete showed as typing back: Personal one-to-one meetings are not recorded, but minutes are taken for feedback purposes.
Ben sneered at the monitor.
“Let’s get to your performance, Ben.”
“Sure.”
Ben folded his arms tightly across his chest to keep his heart from pushing out.
“As this is the second quarter, the outcome of this meeting will include your bonus pay.”
He looked over the scattered bills on the dining room table. Ben found himself working from bonus to bonus to keep on top of them. It had motivated him to push a lot harder than what he had been used to, though he’d always been a decent performer. “What am I in for, Pete?”
“As you are aware bonuses can go up to three thousand pounds per quarter.”
Ben smiled at that, three thousand was never possible, but last quarter he pulled in a cool two grand and this quarter he’d been pushing a lot harder. Not even a single complaint. “Sounds good to me!”
Pete didn’t share the enthusiasm. “So your call time has improved and you have taken three thousand one hundred and twelve calls this quarter.”
Ben did a mini fist pump. That was two hundred more than last quarter.
“No complaints, no sick days, and two hundred and eight sales.” Pete was rather neutral about the whole performance thing. Normally he’d be encouraging, after all, Ben's success was also his.
“Seems like I’ll be pulling in bank!” Ben clapped and leaned forward.
“Congratulations, Ben.”
“Thank you, so what’s the payout?”
“Three hundred and fifteen pounds.”
“Ha! Come on Pete, you big joker.”
There came that pause. Ben had a wide smirk painted on his face.
“Joking about pay rises and bonuses is against company policy, Ben. Your pay is Three hundred and fifteen pounds.”
Ben looked at his littered table. “What the fuck, Pete?”
“You have been warned once about your language, I will upload an infraction to your performance chart for next quarter–”
“What are you talkin’ about, Pete?”
Pete finished the sentence with raised volume, “For next quarter, if you accumulate further behavioural infractions you will be subject to disciplinary action.”
Ben shook his head. “So this is why you invited me early to the meeting? To tell me you’re screwing me? How the hell can I do better than last quarter and make over fifteen hundred less?”
“Performance bonuses are aggregated against other employees and you’re placed in a leaderboard. Your position on the leaderboard was in the bottom quadrant.”
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“So everyone else magically got better than me?”
“There is no magic in improvement, only hard work, Ben.”
“F-” Ben bit his tongue and closed his eyes. “Pete, I need this bonus, am up to my eyeballs in bills.”
“I understand you’re disappointed, Ben. Times are hard with the increased cost of living. However, we do offer a competitive basic wage.”
“You offered a competitive basic wage six years ago, now it barely fills my cupboards. I have been getting over a grand every quarter for the past two years, all of a sudden I can’t get five hundred quid?”
“Ben–”
“No way Pete, show me the leaderboard, I want to see.”
Pete paused. “I shall share my screen.”
Ben enlarged the window as the leaderboard popped into view. He sat in the bottom ten employees, the zone was highlighted in red. “Scroll up, Pete.”
The leaderboard moved down to reveal the top performers. Ben’s eyes bulged. Roger was sitting at the top. A lot of the poor performers from last month were all at the top on similar performance levels. Ben knew Roger from the office before it was closed down for the permanent working-from-home option. “Roger, top?”
“He’s worked hard and will be rewarded.”
“What’s his sales like?”
“I am not at liberty to divulge those details.”
“It says he took over five thousand calls, Pete. That’s not even possible, he’d have to work twelve hours a day with no bloody breaks or lunches!”
“Please refrain from raising your voice at me.”
“Well, it’s clear they are cheating. They went from near bottom of the board to right at the top with all these calls, it’s ridiculous, how can you not tell they are cheating?”
“All calls are recorded and the performances on this leaderboard are legitimate.”
Ben ran his hands through his greasy mop. “It’s not possible, no way. I am being robbed here.”
“The bonus scheme was introduced as a way for the company to pay forward hard work. This scheme is not under obligation, so you are not being stolen from, you are getting more than your usual pay.”
“I need that extra pay!”
Pete paused. “Perhaps you should manage your accounts better.”
Ben hit the leave button, wrenched his headset off and threw it across the room. The wire disconnected from his laptop after almost pulling it off the edge of the desk. “Fuckin’ prick stain!” He kicked his chair over and made to upend his dining room table. He saw Pete calling. “Prick! Cunt!”
Ben gathered himself, picked up his headset, plugged it in and leaned over his laptop. The call did not stop ringing and Ben relented by answering. “Yes?”
“You disconnected during our meeting.”
“So sorry, Mr Lennon, sir, I had technical issues.”
“Call me Pete.”
“Oh, I don’t feel comfortable as your subordinate calling you Pete, Mr Lennon is your name.”
“Very well.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Pete paused. “You seem distressed.”
“You think?”
“I shall refer you to a stress assessment so that you may take advantage of our support mechanisms.”
“Will they give me the rest of my bonus?”
“Your bonus has been paid in full, Ben.”
“Call me Benjamin please, that’s my name.”
“Of course. Your health is important to us and we want to ensure you’re fully supported.”
Ben started to chuckle. “Alright, Pete, stop now. You’ve made me mad, you got me, well played. I hope you recorded this to send out to the rest of the lads, but can you get real with me now? What’s my bonus?”
“Three hundred and fifteen pounds.”
“Pete, very funny, but now I am not joking. I will report you, I don’t care anymore this isn’t something I am enjoying. What’s the bonus?”
“I am not joking, Benjamin.”
Ben cupped his face and leaned on his desk. He shook his head.
“Benjamin?”
He picked his chair back up slowly and tentatively lowered himself.
“Benjamin, are you there?”
“I am here.”
“Excellent. Well, on behalf of the company I want to thank you for your efforts this quarter. However, we do have a tough conversation to have.”
“Tougher than the one where you told me you’re screwing me out of a grand?”
“Benjamin, I will not discuss the amount any further, if you wish to raise issue please do this through our HR department's open box.”
“Sure. So what’s the tough conversation.”
“Your performance is currently not meeting our standards and we will need to see considerable improvement by next quarter.”
“Considerable improvement? How?”
“You’ll need to contribute more calls.”
“I can’t do much more, Pete.”
“That’s not the right attitude, you must take responsibility for your performance levels, Benjamin.”
Ben narrowed his eyes. Each time Pete called him Benjamin it felt like a stab, even though he asked him to call him that. It was such nonchalance and spiteful. “I have improved since last quarter,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Not enough it seems.”
Ben felt his blood boil and his veins cook. “I have been in the top half of the charts since the scheme began, that many calls isn’t possible, I told you, they cheated.”
“Nobody has cheated, and we do not appreciate vexatious claims against fellow employees, let us keep this about you.”
Ben gave the monitor a taste of his middle finger.
“I expect to see an increase of one thousand calls.”
“I’d need to do overtime for that.”
“Overtime is not available, however, you can work as long as you please to reach your target.”
Ben shook his head and reached for his tea, it had gone cold. “So this is the trick, eh? Get me to work more time so I don’t get put on improvement?”
Pete’s pauses were beginning to aggravate Ben. “It’s not a trick. You have until next quarter to achieve.”
“If I don’t?”
“You will be assigned an improvement plan.”
“Then?”
“If you fail to make the improvements we may have to conclude your time here at the company.”
“My fourteen years, you mean?”
“We appreciate your length of service, but the company needs to remain competitive and there is only a certain amount of openings available, they need to be filled by employees that can meet our standards.”
“You’re talking like some sort of jobsworth from up high, Pete. Have they given you a dressing down or something?”
“I have to meet these new standards too, Benjamin. As the new CEO has stated in his messages: “Mediocrity has no place in our future.”
Ben gulped the rest of his cold tea and wiped his mouth. “Ah, so they bollocked you and told you to behave like this else you’d get the sack as well.”
“They retrained me, Benjamin.”
“Right, and just like that, you’re a company man. A few months ago you’d have been fighting in my corner if the company tried to rip me off like this.”
“We need to adapt, Benjamin. Our competitors are not slowing down and neither can we.”
“I need to take calls, Pete. About five thousand of them.”
“I’ll conclude this meeting, I’ll send you a copy of your performance, please read it carefully.”
“Sure, I’ll take it to bed with me tonight.” Ben ended the call and slumped in his chair. The reality of the situation dawned and he had never felt so alone. Pete had his back for years and now he was being sacrificed.
“There’s no way Roger handled that many calls, cheating fuckers.” Ben looked at the clock. The meeting had finished five minutes early but he didn’t feel like joining the line again to take more calls. The thought of his next quarterly review was already making him feel sick.
He looked over at the bills and then at his screen before calling Pete once more. He answered instantly.
“Hello, Benjamin.”
“I’m callin’ a sick, I have a massive migraine.”
“This will have an impact on your performance review, Benjamin. Are you sure you can’t push through?”
“Yes.”
“In light of recent news, are you being honest or is this an emotional reaction to your circumstances?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you, Pete, I’m sick, and you have to accept it, got that?”
Pete paused. “Get well soon, Benjamin, for headaches I recom–”
“You’re not a doctor, Pete. You're a low-level call centre manager, and that’s all.” Ben closed the call and went to make himself a fresh cup of tea and think about what he needed to do next. At least it was Friday.