"Your call is important to us . . . just like every other one."

As those who know me personally or have read this blog are aware, a lot of things annoy me.  Bad driving.  Bible-thumpers.  Lady Gaga.  Persistent high winds.  Talking to "customer service" departments on the phone – an odd misnomer, since the primary purpose of such hotlines is plainly to confuse, exasperate, and screw customers as thoroughly as possible.  I am reminded of the governmental bureaus in George Orwell's 1984 (ie. the Ministry of Peace conducts wars, the Ministry of Truth spreads lies, etc.).  I spent a good portion of today on my phone, on hold, valiantly attempting to resolve an issue. Just what the product in question was is irrelevant, since my point is this: they're all the same. Whether you are trying to contact a municipal utilities company or a Main Street-screwing mega-bank, the chances of talking to an actual flesh-and-blood human being, let alone one that speaks your language, let alone a helpful one, in less than twenty minutes are only slightly better than contracting one of the more obscure diseases on House or catching a music video on MTV.

Firstly, all of them go out of the way to reassure you just how important you are.  As if I needed reminding.  Then, they tell you how vastly they have improved their automated system.  Generally, this seems to mean they have added between three and seventeen options, none of which will apply to what you are calling about.  "For returning your unopened purchase from a foreign country beginning with the letter 'F' but not ending in 'ia,' press 8 now, followed by the pound key, followed by the last four digits of your childhood phone number."  What? And I guess automated answering services must be on the cutting edge of technology, since every single one of them always seems to have recently undergone “improvement.”

Second, and I am not joking, they tell you that "we are experiencing extremely high call volume right now," no matter when you call.  I have tried calling five minutes after the hotlines opened right up to the moment they close, and it never changes.  This means, of course, that the message is a default part of the recording and is in no way affected by actual call volume.  I work in customer service, and that tells me one thing: they don't want you to call.  The message may as well say, "Are you really sure you want to get into this?  Don't you have anything better to do with your valuable time?  Why don't you just hang up the phone, accept the status quo, and continue to take it up the tail-pipe from our company, because it's easier than wading through the Nine Levels of Call Center Hell to receive frustrating and ambiguous answers from the dubiously-named Steve, whose accent suggests he was born in a country only vaguely acquainted with the idea of a distant nation called 'England,' let alone the language they speak in said mythical land?"

On a similar note, have you ever noticed that when the company calls you, the operator is always an articulate American?  But when you call them, your call is whisked away to East Buddhafuck, Tanzermajikravistan?  I once tried to clarify a charge on my account and ended up being rerouted through every former Soviet satellite and half the Mongol Empire, which has not existed for centuries.  I am all for diversifying the workforce, but I just think it makes sense that, if I select English as my preferred language, that is something I should have in common with the operator to whom I am talking.  Call me a conservative, jingoistic xenophobe if you will (notice how I put links on those words to save you the trouble of looking them up?  That's the kind of guy I am).

And, at the risk of sounding like Jerry Seinfeld, what's the deal with the music when you're put on hold?  Not only is it recycled elevator Muzak from 1988, it sounds like it's being played on a 1950's record player through the sound system of a dishwasher.  I think our audio technology has progressed beyond this point.  How difficult is it to play some Pure Moods Volume II in crisp Dolby Digital? At the very least, don't interrupt your shitty music every two minutes to tell me I am on the verge of speaking with a human person. Allow me the time to figure out whether I am listening to simply another crappy synthesized cover of “Baker Street” or the world's worst rendition of Beethoven's Ninth. Either way, I want to revel fully in the excrutiatory auditory experience you have created for me.

Finally, stop trying to upsell me, especially with obviously scripted, long-winded spiels intentionally written to befuddle and capitalize on the unavoidable language barrier.  I had a guy whom I barely understood speak for two minutes straight without coming up for air, ending in, ". . . please say 'yes.'"  Wait, what?  "I am sorry, I did not get that.  Please say, 'Yes,' Mr. Parr."  Seriously?  You think I am going to agree to pay your company more money for some service I don't need just because I am confused?  Fuck you.  And, to make matters worse, he proceeded to repeat the pitch two more times with only the tiniest variation, each time ending with the surefire, don't-take-no-for-an-answer deal-closer.  At last, I had to tell him in no uncertain terms that, while I had no idea what he was talking about, I strongly suspected he was trying to trick me into assenting to some superfluous program, and that if he did not stop all such shystering, I would simply cancel altogether.  Cue obviously scripted, long-winded apology the guy has been forced to memorize for just such an occasion.

In short, I am now seriously considering using homing pigeons as my primary means of correspondence with any and all corporations that are after my money.  The least I can do is send something to shit on them in return for all of their gracious "service."

UPDATE: Oh, yeah, and one more thing: what is the point of voice-recognition software when it can't recognize my voice?  No matter how clearly I enunciate, the program can never understand what I'm saying.  I say, "Returns," and it replies, "Okay, billing."  WTF?  Perhaps I speak in such an alien timbre that human computers are not yet advanced enough to comprehend me.