A Day in the Life of a Collector

If you refuse then it’s time to get dirty. I’ll call for a t-o, which is nothing more, then a leader picking up the line. They may be nice and offer you a better deal, but most of the time it’s time to get dirty. They will threaten to repo, sue, and if you live in the right state garnish your wages. Nice, huh? Most of the time this where someone usually gets cussed out and hung up on at which point we have the nerve to call you right back and continue where we left off. Or leave you a politely nasty message.

As soon as one ends, another call comes in. They are back to back. No time to breathe. The “leaders” are walking up and down the line making sure everyone is “breaking their rocks.” They have this tendency to yell while they do it. They yell stupid things like “read the notes” or “the volume is too low” or “get the money today.”

After doing this for two hours it’s time for the first break in the day. Then it’s a quick run back into the building, through the security, and finally back to my desk to start it all over again. This is how the entire day goes.

Now of course there are some specific things you must keep in mind. There are laws that govern my job. They are known as the FDCPA (Fair Debt Collection Practices Act) laws. In a nutshell it says that I can’t talk to anyone but you about the account. I can’t say account, money, debt, bill, or any of the like to another party including an answering machine. I cannot curse you or threaten you with any kind of physical harm. If I notify you of legal action I must use words like “may result in legal action…” because if I say we are going to sue and we don’t, then you may sue us for threats of prosecution. You can find more on FDCPA here. I recommend it as this lays out your rights in entirety.

There are quite a few laws, but for the most part my job is common sense. I am a professional negotiator or irritator. I guess it depends on you point of view. I do know that no matter what your view is, if people paid their bills on time, then I would not have a job. That said lets end this day shall we. I can’t wait to actually.

After eight long hours of being hung up on, yelled at, making deals, and hundreds of messages, the leaders finally call the day. That starts the mad dash for the time clock all over again. I scan the door and the turnstiles to get out. I say good night to the police officer and quite literally run to my truck. I dodge cars trying to escape the parking lot for the freedom of the road. I’m dying for a smoke. If this job doesn’t kill me, trying to get out of the parking lot very well might. Then blissfully I am on the road, another day behind me, smoking a cigarette, counting the days until I’m off again.