Press or Say F*CK
Communication technology has grown so sophisticated over the last 10 years. Search engines are a great example. When I got my first internet ready computer in 1994 (long ago, but WAY after the first wave of early adapters), you really couldn't count on search engines for much of anything. Altavista was OK for a time. Google was worthless. You'd look up "hot chicks," for instance, and the first 2300 hits would be something along the lines of "CHICKenS getting sHOT."
That's gotten a lot better. These days Google knows what I want before I finish typing it out. Mapquest starts off its directions to me with "From your desk, walk 3 paces northeast to the door of your den, turn left and walk seven yards to your front door..." It borders on spooky.
One of the downsides of this sophistication is the growing imperviability of voicemail. It's damn near iron-clad now. It used to be I could slip by if I pretended to still have a rotary phone. The VM would ask a few questions, I'd refuse to press "1" and eventually a real person showed up on the other end of the line to deal with me. Even if I goofed up and started pressing buttons, I could usually get out of a jam by ignoring all offered options and pressing "0" for an operator.
That's done. The electric gatekeepers talk and listen now. No more side stepping the digital man.
Tonight, I had to put a hold on a FEDEX package so I can pick it up tomorrow. I dialed 800 GOFEDEX and promptly received 5 options, none of which even remotely corresponded to what I had to do. I tried to opt out by pressing "0."
click....whirr..."I'm sorry. That is not a valid option. Please choose from the following options. To schedule a pickup, please press or say "1."
I'll bite. "One," I say.
whirr...click! "Please enter or say your 9-digit FEDEX account number."
"?," I think.
click...click..."I'm sorry. I didn't hear the account number. If you don't have an account number, please say "I don't have one."
Hoping I won't soon have to do the hokey pokey, I say "I don't have one."
click...grind..."You need a valid FEDEX account number to complete this..."
I don't listen to the rest. I'm ready to cut through the bull at this point. So I say the magic word. The one trick I have left in my arsenal. It's a new one, but it's been pretty solid for me.
"Representative!" I command.
grind...grind...grind...
I love that sound. That's the sound of me fixing the VMs little red wagon.
grind...grind...grind..."I'm sorry. I did not understand you. Please choose from the following options...."
What?! No! "Representative!!" I'm insistent.
"I'm sorry. I did not understand...
"Operator!!" I'm pleading.
"I'm sorry..."
"HELP!" That's got to do it. They had to have put some sort of response in for that simple, universal call.
"I'm having trouble understanding you..."
"MOTH--ER--FUCK-- ER!!!"
Silence. Then a human voice...female...polite, says
"I beg your pardon, sir?
I'd love to believe that was more than bad timing, if only to have the "f-bomb option" when I want to plow through the phone robots and talk to one of my fellow men. But that would be too good to be true. The options dwindle. I don't pass the test. I will stay in voicemail hell and remain Bobbie Mac.
At least I can Google "hot chicks" while I'm waiting.
That's gotten a lot better. These days Google knows what I want before I finish typing it out. Mapquest starts off its directions to me with "From your desk, walk 3 paces northeast to the door of your den, turn left and walk seven yards to your front door..." It borders on spooky.
One of the downsides of this sophistication is the growing imperviability of voicemail. It's damn near iron-clad now. It used to be I could slip by if I pretended to still have a rotary phone. The VM would ask a few questions, I'd refuse to press "1" and eventually a real person showed up on the other end of the line to deal with me. Even if I goofed up and started pressing buttons, I could usually get out of a jam by ignoring all offered options and pressing "0" for an operator.
That's done. The electric gatekeepers talk and listen now. No more side stepping the digital man.
Tonight, I had to put a hold on a FEDEX package so I can pick it up tomorrow. I dialed 800 GOFEDEX and promptly received 5 options, none of which even remotely corresponded to what I had to do. I tried to opt out by pressing "0."
click....whirr..."I'm sorry. That is not a valid option. Please choose from the following options. To schedule a pickup, please press or say "1."
I'll bite. "One," I say.
whirr...click! "Please enter or say your 9-digit FEDEX account number."
"?," I think.
click...click..."I'm sorry. I didn't hear the account number. If you don't have an account number, please say "I don't have one."
Hoping I won't soon have to do the hokey pokey, I say "I don't have one."
click...grind..."You need a valid FEDEX account number to complete this..."
I don't listen to the rest. I'm ready to cut through the bull at this point. So I say the magic word. The one trick I have left in my arsenal. It's a new one, but it's been pretty solid for me.
"Representative!" I command.
grind...grind...grind...
I love that sound. That's the sound of me fixing the VMs little red wagon.
grind...grind...grind..."I'm sorry. I did not understand you. Please choose from the following options...."
What?! No! "Representative!!" I'm insistent.
"I'm sorry. I did not understand...
"Operator!!" I'm pleading.
"I'm sorry..."
"HELP!" That's got to do it. They had to have put some sort of response in for that simple, universal call.
"I'm having trouble understanding you..."
"MOTH--ER--FUCK-- ER!!!"
Silence. Then a human voice...female...polite, says
"I beg your pardon, sir?
I'd love to believe that was more than bad timing, if only to have the "f-bomb option" when I want to plow through the phone robots and talk to one of my fellow men. But that would be too good to be true. The options dwindle. I don't pass the test. I will stay in voicemail hell and remain Bobbie Mac.
At least I can Google "hot chicks" while I'm waiting.
posted by Bobbie Mac at 6:25 PM
4 Comments:
That was fabulous.
I used to work for a company that provided all sorts of phone services (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) and I recorded the voice menu messages for a lot of the clients. Whenever I told people what I did for a living they all say "Oh my G-d! I hate you!"
Now I get to tell them I do phone sex, it's much less controversial.
: D
hilarious! I know the woman who does the VM for the college I work for. I never get caught in that particular system because I have the "secret codes" to let me dial folks direct.
Thanks for coming by. I really enjoyed your blog as well.
I loved that bit! Thanks for stopping by my blog... thought I'd check yours out. I'm definitely going to try the f-bomb option the next time I get stuck in VM hell! Your now on my blog list to follow. Hope you post often!!
That's for the comments, rachel. I hope you catch a break with your book. I love the title.
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