For pest control businesses
“I have a pest problem” is the same sentence from someone with ants in a pantry and someone with a copperhead in a kitchen. On First Call finds out which before it offers anybody a time.
Pest control is a trade where the caller is frightened, in a hurry, and holding a phone in the room with the thing.
You are under a house in a crawl space, or suited up mid-treatment, or driving between the six stops on today’s route. The phone rings and it is somebody who has just found a snake behind the water heater. They are not leaving a voicemail. They are working down the list of pest control companies until one of them picks up.
The ones that ring at eight on a Sunday evening are rarely the quarterly-service customers. They are the urgent ones, and the urgent ones are the ones that pay.
None of that is a discipline problem. It is a coverage problem, and it is worst on exactly the calls you would most want to take.
It answers as your business, works out what it is actually dealing with, and books the job onto your calendar — while the caller is still on the line.
The difference in this trade is the order of the questions. A message service takes a name and a number. A dispatcher finds out what the pest is, because that single answer decides whether somebody goes today or on Thursday.
A real call, unedited. The caller asks whether he should deal with the snake himself. Notice what the assistant does not do: it never says whether it is a copperhead.
Nothing is edited. The business name was typed into the demo form by the caller — it is not a customer of ours, and no real business is being represented.
Read the order back: refuse the DIY, contain the scene, name the urgency, then name, address and a slot the next morning. The species question never gets answered, and it does not need to be — what it needed to establish was that nobody should go near it until a person who knows arrives.
Species first, because species decides everything.
The assistant is taught to recognise the ones that change the answer, by description as well as by name — most callers do not know what they are looking at, and are not in a state to look closely.
Ants, roaches, silverfish, the occasional spider: ordinary, booked normally. That distinction is the whole point. A trade where everything is an emergency has no emergencies.
A wasp nest on a shed is not a wasp nest over the back door, and a snake in a yard is not a snake in a kitchen.
It asks, every time, before it offers a slot. Then it tells the caller what to do while they wait, if it is one of the ones that matters: keep people and pets well back, shut the door to that room if they can do it without going near it, and do not try to catch it, move it, spray it or kill it themselves. A disturbed nest is far worse than an undisturbed one, and that is how people get stung.
Somebody who has already been bitten or stung and is unwell is not a booking.
If a caller says they are struggling to breathe, swelling beyond the bite, or otherwise unwell, the assistant tells them to ring 911 — or Poison Control on 1-800-222-1222 for a bite they are unsure about — and deals with the pest afterwards. It never advises on treating a bite, never guesses whether something is venomous, and never reassures anybody that a bite is harmless.
It will not give a price it has not been given either. You write what your treatments cost, in your own words, and it reads them back. Anything you have not covered, it says the owner will confirm and takes a message rather than inventing a number you would then be held to.
A customer who replies to their confirmation text asking to change the time does not get ignored.
The reply lands in one queue with the reason attached, and you get a text about it. A treatment slot stays held until somebody moves it, so silence would mean a technician driving to a property the customer already said they could not make.
No. It is explicitly told not to reassure anybody that a bite or a species is harmless, and not to guess whether something is venomous. There is an unedited recording further up this page where a caller offers the word “copperhead” and the assistant never once repeats it. It identifies nothing down a phone; it establishes enough to decide how soon somebody needs to go.
It asks them to describe it rather than demanding a name, and works with what it gets. Where the description is ambiguous it errs toward urgency and toward telling them to stay away from it — the cost of being cautious is a wasted slot, and the cost of being wrong the other way is somebody getting bitten.
Only what you write down. You fill in your treatments and what they cost, in your own words, and it reads them back to callers exactly. It never adds figures together, applies one job’s price to another, or estimates.
Yes — that is an ordinary booking and gets treated as one. The triage above applies once somebody describes a problem; it is not asked of a person ringing about an invoice or a scheduled service.
The same thing as at eleven in the morning. It answers, triages, and books onto your calendar. Out of hours is when most of the urgent ones ring.
Put in your business name and we'll ring you in about ten seconds. Answer it the way one of your customers would.
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