Whiskey for the Customer Service Soul

Note: This is the first sort-of plan for a book I'm working on, a half-parody of the "Chicken Soup for the [insert here] Soul" series of books. I'm hoping it will help Customer Service folk everywhere avoid the Lee Harvey Oswald Syndrome.

Introduction

How many times in a day do you deal with a customer service rep? Don't know? Then let's define the term. For our intents, let's say that a customer service representative is anyone that has to speak to, help, placate, mollify, or defuse a customer as a regular part of their job. Every time you go in to a clothing store, a restaurant, a government office, or a bank you will almost assuredly run into someone who's sole job is to make the customer feel like a valuable person. So let's ask the question again: How many times in a day? Now think of it this way: how many times per day did each of those customer service reps have to deal with customers?
I've worked a number of jobs in my life, starting at about age 16 and most of them have have been customer service jobs. Sure, there was some food handling or maybe a little construction, but the only job I've had in the last 6 years that hasn't involved customer service has been delivering pizza. Even then, you'll hate the person in the mirror for some of the things they do to earn a tip. It struck me recently that I have yet to meet a CSR (I got tired of spelling it out for you) that has a perfectly upbeat attitude. If such a person exists, this book is not for them (except perhaps as a warning). I've met CSR's with a love for their job, with a determination to treat customers well, with optimism, and even with a sense of well-being stemming from their job, but never one who is so exceptionally balanced that he or she does not resent at least one customer.
This book is not for the CSR who deals with only one set of customers. Many jobs that have a service requirement only deal with a handful of the same people over and over again. In that environment, at least, there is something of a relationship formed, and the customer has a modicum of regard for the Rep. I'm not saying you can't read, empathize, and even get use out of this book, but it's not designed principally for you and your kind.
This book is designed for the hardcore CSR, the call-center responder, the cube-worker; it's for the secretaries, stewardesses, and waitresses (excuse me: administrative assistants, flight attendants, and waitstaff) of the world. You'll find humor, strategy, and possibly a little vengeance (the purely legal kind). Unlike the books of which this is a parody, we are not shooting for a warm, fuzzy feeling. Such feelings almost universally precede a terminal diagnosis of a rare disease. Instead, we'll shoot for something a little more practical and a hell of a lot more possible: a feeling of purpose.

Customer service has been around forever, but under slightly different names. One of them was priest.
No really. Priest.
Think about it. Throughout history there have been cadres of women and men dedicated to communicating the desires of the supplicants (the customers) to the all powerful, beneficial, gift-giving god (the company). These intercessors, these powerful agents of the divine world were... can you guess?
And now, today, where the Limited Liability Corporation is as powerful as god and the dollar a lot easier than praying, who will communicate the desperate wishes of the penitent to the divine powers? The Customer Service Representative.
Okay, okay, so I'm exaggerating. To all the fundamentalists out there (Christian, Muslim, or Other) a corporation isn't really like God/Allah/Whatever. In fact, in Nike's case, it's quite the opposite. The comparison isn't entirely without merit, though, and it serves very nicely as an illustration of one simple fact: the CSR has more power than you might think. More to the point, there are ways to tap into that power without getting fired, getting yelled at, or getting sued.