"Shit! Shit! Shit! I'm so going to be late. Stupid train! Can't you go any faster?! Oh bollocks!"
Meet Arthur Kirkland, age 23, currently employed by the Beilschmidt Holdings as a sales executive. Presently, he had made it out of the very crowded train by jostling his way out with his briefcase and was now running towards the bus stop at breakneck speed, hoping that he had not missed the bus. This had been the morning ritual every single day, and almost all of the time, he would miss the bus. However today, the bus was still seen at the bus stop.
"Just a moment! Just a moment! Wait! Wait!" The bus was about to set off and the next bus would only come in fifteen minutes. Arthur could not afford to wait for another fifteen minutes, seeing that he was already running late for five minutes. A young bespectacled chap on the bus had kindly informed the bus captain that a rather dishevelled man was running after the bus, effectively stopping it and thus allowing Arthur to board the bus. Panting, Arthur could not even muster the breath to thank the boy as he fumbled through his briefcase and pocket, trying to locate his bus pass. The bus had started moving again, and it was difficult to maintain his balance. Every pocket of his pants was searched yet he could not find that damned plastic card that was still with him when he alighted from the train. Somewhere through the wing mirror of the bus, Arthur gaped in horror as a woman waved a bus pass that looked hideously like his in her hand while the bus crossed yet another traffic light.
"Sir, you have not tapped your card. If you do not have it, please pay your fares in cash," the bus captain grunted as he took a glance at Arthur. He had the 'I am done with this shitty excuse of a job' look plastered on his face as he eyed Arthur.
"Wait a moment. I think I dropped my bus pass while I was running here," Arthur replied as he rummaged his wallet to look for his coins.
"Then that would be $1.45."
Other than notes, Arthur found no coins in his wallet and he was reaching his stop soon. The bus captain looked as though he was beginning to lose his temper and make a report to his office about him being a freeloader.
"Here, it's just a meagre amount," a bright voice rang like church bells beside him. It was the same chap who had stopped the bus for him.
"Thank you, really thank you," Arthur thanked him profusely as he passed the cash to the bus captain who muttered under his breath that sounded like a complaint about the youths these days. The boy looked to be about nineteen or twenty, and was carrying a backpack. Arthur assumed that the boy was a university student. Seeing that he had reached his stop, he pressed for the bell and thanked the boy once more before rushing down and started running in the direction of the building where his office was located at.
Putting down his mug of tea at his table, Arthur cringed as he thought about his salary for the month. He had been twenty minutes late when he punched in his card. That would be half an hour's worth of money gone from his already pathetic salary. The secretary at the desk, Elizabeta, just gave him a sympathetic smile as he rushed in, and Arthur was sure that inside, she must be thinking what a loser he was, getting late every single day. It had been a miracle that his tardiness had not been taken note of by his supervisors. But then again, he had just started working two weeks ago, so perhaps those higher-ups have still not known of his existence.
Pulling out the thick stack of phone numbers he had to call, Arthur look up from his cubicle and sighed. This was certainly not the live he had envisaged while still in school. At Beilschmidt Holdings, what Arthur had to do was to call and promote educational magazines to students still schooling, since he was employed by the education department. So essentially, the title 'Sales Executive' was just a euphemism for telemarketer. When Arthur had started out, it had been difficult at first, because of the fear of offending potential customers and also the fear of rejection from them. However, two weeks had passed, and he had already received all kinds of complaints and threats to not call again unless he felt ready to receive a lawsuit. His table was kept simple, with only a telephone and a stationary holder. Pasted all around Arthur's cubicle were pieces of laminated papers of different colours with different guidelines and possible response.
Taking a deep breath, Arthur picked up the phone and started dialling the first number on his list.
"Hello, good morning. Is this Mr. Vargas? I'm Arthur calling from Beilschmidt Holdings and—"
"What the fuck do you want? I'm kinda busy right now. If you are selling whatever Viagra or something just get the fuck out of my face!" a highly irritated voice boomed from the receiver. Rolling his eyes, Arthur referred to the pink paper in front of him.
1. Apologise.
2. Explain your intentions for calling customer.
3. Stay patient. If target stays hostile, jump to 7.
4. Try to empathise with them and understand their concern. Do not interrupt when customer is talking.
5. If target is willing to listen, explain your product and how it will be useful to them. Keep calm and professional.
6. Summarise and confirm if they want to purchase product.
7. Thank them and wish them a good day.
"Sorry sir, I'm not selling any Viagra or whatsoever. I'm calling from Beilschmidt Holdings and I understand you are currently a student?"
"How do you even know that you creepy bastard?!"
"I'm—"
The call was rudely hung up, leaving Arthur still midsentence.
"Well, thank you very much and have a good day ahead," Arthur gritted his teeth as he slammed the receiver down and crossed out the name. Damn kids these days. Who the hell even taught them how to cuss and swear? A small voice gnawed his mind, reminding him that he himself was particularly vulgar at a very tender age but Arthur just promptly ignored it. Fingers already dialling the next number, he waited and counted the rings, before a rather soft and sweet voice came from the other end.
"Hello?"
"Good morning, is this Ms Lin Xiao Mei? This is Arthur calling from Beilschmidt Holdings and I understand you are currently a student?"
"Yes, may I know what's the problem?"
Referring to the green paper, Arthur felt himself entering his robot mode as he recited everything from the script, promoting the possible magazines while the girl at the opposite end hummed in response. At the background, Arthur could hear someone speaking in rapid Mandarin but it was muffled.
"So would you like to subscribe to a month of World Affairs as a try out before you subscribe to the one year package?"
"Sure! Thank you!"
"Welcome. I will send you an email regarding the details and you can pay through credit card or come directly to our office to make a payment."
"Okay sure thank—Yao! Stop talking! Oh Mr Arthur I'm so sorry! Did I scare you?"
Arthur who was currently holding his hand to his chest gave an awkward laugh as he held the receiver further away from his ear. "No, no. Of course not. I hope to hear from you soon. Thank you and have a great day."
With that, he hung up and put a tick beside the name. This was his third deal in two weeks and Arthur felt immensely elated, despite his slow progress.
"Kirkland! You are wanted by the Manager."
A sense of dread crawled up from Arthur's belly and settled heavily on his chest as he looked up from his cubicle into his co-worker's face which spelled nothing but trouble.
"Level 22 third door from the corridor. Good luck."
Putting down his pencil, Arthur stood up immediately and started smoothing his suit shirt, easing the creases that were accumulated from the whole day of work and running. He walked briskly to the lift lobby and waited for the lift to arrive. His heart was palpitating extremely fast with trepidation. Why was he summoned? Had they finally notice his tardiness and lack of sales record? Entering the lift, Arthur looked into the mirror and was devastated to find how dishevelled he looked. His hair was messy and tousled due to his incessant grabbing at it when met with difficult customers. His dark eye circles were prominent. The creases on his shirt were worse than he had imagined. He frantically tried smoothing his hair down and after finding that it was impossible, he settled on unfolding his sleeves and buttoning the cuffs.
The lift gave a loud ring, signalling to Arthur he had reached his destination. Every step he took felt like another step to imminent doom and his legs felt like lead. The polished marble tiles on the floor made him feel displaced from the posh surrounding and anxiety twisted his innards. Reaching the third door, Arthur gave a gulp as he knocked on the door three times, before hearing an answer.
"Enter."
The metal door handle felt cold to the touch as Arthur grabbed it and pushed it down. A blast of cold air sliced through him mercilessly as he pushed the door open.
"Good afternoon sir."
Mr. Berwald Oxenstierna had his chair turned away from Arthur, facing the long and large glass window.
"Have a sit."
Scurrying to the leather chair in front, Arthur sat down nervously, filling up less than half of the seat, his back extremely straight.
"I was informed of your tardiness, Mr. Kirkland. Out of fourteen days since you started working, you were only punctual for the first three days."
"I'm sorry sir."
"I looked through your sales records too. I was disappointed. Perhaps you liked the number three? If not can you explain why you have only made three deals?"
"I'm sorry sir." It took a lot for Arthur to not launch himself into his argumentative self. He really needed this job.
Mr. Oxenstierna turned around, and Arthur felt fear. Berwald Oxenstierna was an intimidating man. His glasses did nothing to shield those ice blue eyes, but to only emphasise their frost within them. His features were pale too, with his very pale face and blond hair. He seemed like the type who had frozen in time and Arthur felt chills running down his spine.
"I've did research on your background and found that you are currently supporting yourself and your brother?"
"Yes sir."
Mr. Oxenstierna gave him a thorough stare that felt more like an X-ray before rubbing his temples as he gave a loud sigh which surprised Arthur. "I've told Mr. Beilschmidt to give you another chance. Do not disappoint me."
"Wh-what?!"
The Manager raised one of his thin brows as he stared at Arthur who was still processing what he had heard. He was not scolded! He was not fired!
"Thank you! Thank you Mr. Oxenstierna! I will do my best!"
With that, Arthur bowed and rushed out of the door, not forgetting to close the door behind him softly. Exhaling, Berwald looked at the employee file before him.
"Arthur, Arthur. Why did you reject your scholarship?"
Feeling regenerated, Arthur pulled out yet another stack of numbers. It was already 7pm, and most of his colleagues had already left the office. The meeting with Mr. Oxenstierna had made him feel more encouraged to strive for better results. To think that his Manager had put in a good word for him made him grateful, and he was motivated to work harder. Dialling the number of Alfred Jones, he waited for the person to pick up the phone and heard the call connected.
"Good evening. Is this Mr. Alfred Jones? I am—"
"Oh Tori is that you?"
"Um, Mr. Jones I'm Art—"
"Come on, you don't have to pretend. I know you are the only one who would call my home number," the coy voice from the opposite end made Arthur cringe.
"Sorry sir, I'm not Tori, I am Arthur calling from—"
"I told you it's all right! My parents are not home so you can drop the pretence," Jones replied, then started getting into his own monologue which Arthur had completely tuned out.
"This is Arthur calling from Beil—"
"Wait Tori, since when have you developed an accent? And a…a British one…? Are you even Toris?!" The shocked high pitched voice that came from the other end was rather satisfying to Arthur's ears as he tried to control his laughter.
"No sir, as I've introduced, I'm Arthur calling from Beilschmidt Holdings and—"
"Perhaps this is not a very good time to call. Try next time. Good bye." The answer was abrupt and what was left was only the beeping of the phone.
Arthur burst out laughing as he stared at the receiver. Two weeks, and this was the most interesting thing that had happened. Perhaps this job does have its joys after all.
