The first job I got in L.A. was at an answering service. We're talking the mid-eighties and I would have thought such services were on the cutting edge of technology. Not where I worked.
Four of us were employed. I usually worked the grave yard shift. There was a pecking order when it came to where us "operators" sat. I was the lowest on the totem pole. So late at night I was delegated to answering calls requesting a limo or attempting to describe pots and pans As Seen On TV. We were the 800 number. I had never seen the merchandise, except for the picture and brief information about the product on a laminated sheet of paper.
Someone would call, a light would flash, a plug was placed in the hole. The person on the other end might be calling to leave a message, pick up messages, or asked to be connected to another line we serviced. Plugs of different colors, which were inserted in the holes, were assigned different meanings. Red might be, don't answer. Yellow might be pick up call in two rings, and so forth. My experience with inserting the proper plugs sometimes ended in disaster.
There was a talent agent for young people. We'll call her Ira. No matter what instructions we were given, we were always wrong. "You picked up too late!" "Why did you pick up so soon? I can get to the phone fast enough. Don't you know I have one in my bathroom?"
Though we did respect privacy, there was a benefit to this antiquated system.
We could remain plugged in and listen to the ensuing conversation. I myself recall doing it once. With Ira. A girl was on the line with her. I would assume talking about an audition or such. Ira said, "So, little girl, you want to be a star?" Nasty. Well, we all knew she was nasty.
We had a few nasty clients. Usually the one hit wonder "stars." Mary Fran was one of them.
I talked with the most famous people through the limo service. They would call requesting one and we would dispatch this information to the limo company. I wonder if the stars knew how
country-ass backwards we were.
Rod Stewart called one night. He told me who he was and where he wanted to go. I said, "Certainly sir." He sounded none too pleased when he told me, "Don't call me sir!"
The most memorable moment was a call I got requesting a limo to such and such a place. I said, "Certainly ma'am , may I have you name?" "Michael Jackson." Well hell. He sounded like a woman to me! There was silence, then a rough sounding voice came on the line.
That was the most memorable moment of my job.
Then I moved on.
If your not familiar with the old telephone operating equipment, recall Lily Tomlin's Ernistine.
Someone would call, a light would flash, a plug was placed in the hole. The person on the other end might be calling to leave a message, pick up messages, or asked to be connected to another line we serviced. Plugs of different colors, which were inserted in the holes, were assigned different meanings. Red might be, don't answer. Yellow might be pick up call in two rings, and so forth. My experience with inserting the proper plugs sometimes ended in disaster.
There was a talent agent for young people. We'll call her Ira. No matter what instructions we were given, we were always wrong. "You picked up too late!" "Why did you pick up so soon? I can get to the phone fast enough. Don't you know I have one in my bathroom?"
Though we did respect privacy, there was a benefit to this antiquated system.
We could remain plugged in and listen to the ensuing conversation. I myself recall doing it once. With Ira. A girl was on the line with her. I would assume talking about an audition or such. Ira said, "So, little girl, you want to be a star?" Nasty. Well, we all knew she was nasty.
We had a few nasty clients. Usually the one hit wonder "stars." Mary Fran was one of them.
I talked with the most famous people through the limo service. They would call requesting one and we would dispatch this information to the limo company. I wonder if the stars knew how
country-ass backwards we were.
Rod Stewart called one night. He told me who he was and where he wanted to go. I said, "Certainly sir." He sounded none too pleased when he told me, "Don't call me sir!"
The most memorable moment was a call I got requesting a limo to such and such a place. I said, "Certainly ma'am , may I have you name?" "Michael Jackson." Well hell. He sounded like a woman to me! There was silence, then a rough sounding voice came on the line.
That was the most memorable moment of my job.
Then I moved on.
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