Ma Bell: The Panty Bandit
Working in the Business Office back in the day could be strange at times. In the present day, this would be referred to as a Call Center. You would think that all of the calls coming in were run of the mill requests for some type of service, maybe a billing question, or a complaint. However, we sometimes got bizarre calls, and sometimes from extraordinary people. You can reference A Call From Marnie on my blog to read an example of the strangeness. And while we all did get some weird calls from customers, I personally never expected to get an x-rated complaint about an employee. But it happened.
Our office was always hectic. It was the growth area for the Dallas area. New apartment complexes and homes were being built and spreading over the North Dallas suburbs at an incredible rate. Most of the apartment dwellers were young, single people.
Due to all of the growth in the area we served, we were horribly busy all of the time. Looking back on it, it was kind of a nightmare. We barely had time to take a breath between the phone calls. It was a very stressful job. The office was loud; people were getting up and down to find customer records and pretty much running across the room dodging other runners. And then we had those bells clanging to tell us there were customers lined up in a queue waiting to talk to someone. The bells were awful, but we also had various lights flashing, signaling us, like we couldn't hear the bells. So sometimes, a weird call was a break from all of the pandemonium around you.
On one of those busy days, I received a bizarre call about an employee. The customer was a young woman living in one of the predominately single complexes. She was upset, livid, and embarrassed. She had phones installed in her new place while she was at work. She had made arrangements for the apartment manager to let our installer in. That was the easy part of the conversation.
She began telling me that she noticed the two phones installed in the kitchen and living room when she got home. She tested one to make sure it worked and was pleased because after testing both, they worked fine and were installed neatly. She then went into her bedroom to check out the phone by her bed, she picked it up, and it also worked. After she finished that comment, her voice started cracking. I asked her if she was okay. Wrong question. She started screaming, no shrieking, and sobbing. I could not understand her. I waited a moment and told her I could not understand her and told her that I would allow her to calm down. A minute or so later, I heard her blowing her nose and sniffling. Then it all came out.
When she was getting up from her bed, she happened to notice her dresser drawer open a little bit. She said she walked over to it to close it, and when she did, she saw that her panty drawer was no longer neat. All of her dainty things had been unfolded and rummaged through and stuffed back in the drawer. Then she let out a big sob and stated, "Some of my panties are missing, and some have dirty finger marks on them!" From me, "What?" "What?" Why? Why, oh why, did I have to get this call? "Ma'am, do you share your apartment with anyone else?" 'NO!" Oh crap. My head was spinning, what do I say, what do I say? And just like that, I sounded like Forrest Gump. "I'm sorry someone got in your panty drawer, ma'am." It sounded dumb; I know it did. "We will certainly get to the bottom of this!" (That sounded bad, too.) "I need to put you on hold for just a moment and talk to a supervisor. Will you hold for just a moment?" She would. I scanned the chaotic office searching for a supervisor, oh no, Dee was the only one available. Dee was a very masculine lady and talked loud, not the best choice for this call, but oh well. I waived Dee down, and she came over, and I told her what was going on, and she busted out laughing at first; I admit, I laughed a little too, mostly from being nervous about the choice I had. Dee told me to get back on the phone and tell the lady she would speak with her. And so I did, and I listened in on a device we all had on our phones in addition to the receiver to enable supervisor monitoring. Here we go.
Dee introduced herself and advised the woman she would need to ask her some questions. I held my breath, hoping that one of the questions would not be what color and styles were missing. She was cool. She calmed the customer down and told her that we would start an investigation and call her back as soon as she hung up. She gave me the phone back to get some additional information. When I returned to the phone, the lady asked me if that was a man she spoke with. Red face and eye roll. I assured her that it was a woman. I completed getting the information and hung up.
Dee was already talking to the installation foreman to find out which one of his guys was at the customer's apartment. In her defense, she was totally reaming the foreman out and demanded to know what the punishment would be. They had a long conversation. Her next stop was to go to our manager, Tom's office and discuss it with him. His face turned red, but he was easily embarrassed about anything sexual, but he actually liked it. They both returned to me and told me to call her back, apologize again, and let her know they had tracked the person's name down and that his punishment would be severe. And they stood next to me while I talked to her, which was a little uncomfortable for me. The lady calmed down and apologized for being so upset. My last comforting words to her were something like, "I would be just as upset as you are if a perfect stranger got in my drawers and rummaged around." Forrest Gump again. I turned around to look at Tom and Dee, and they were cracking up at the choice of my words. That was it; no reparations or adjustments were made to the lady for her ordeal because we were a utility.
Wait! Did you think that was the end of the story? No, not at all. I asked the guy's name, and they told me his name was Tom; I can't give you his last name. When they told me, I was horrified. I had met the panty manny at a happy hour, and he tried to pick me up. He was a big, muscular, manly man, attractive, I guess, a nice body, but I was not interested. I did not like his attitude. And he got mad at me. I told Dee and my manager, and they laughed and laughed. Dee said something like, aren't you glad you turned him down? He could have been foraging through your drawers. I could feel my face burning.
So the Panty Bandit was almost fired, but he only received a suspension in the man's world of justice. I told all of the women I worked with his name because he frequently called in when he was on the job for help, and the girls liked flirting with him. He was a marked man now. A few years later, I went to a few social functions where he was present. I had a date, but he came over to flirt on one occasion. I took it upon myself to ask him how big his panty collection was now. He walked away without a word, and just like that, he never bothered any of us again.
