Press ‘1’ for English … maybe

While I try my best to adjust to life in the 21st Century there are times when I long for the ‘good ol’ days.’  And the good ol’ days I refer to is long before we knew about automated phone systems and people working in customer service who can’t speak English.

Before you remind me that I’m old and label me politically incorrect, let me explain.

Yesterday afternoon I was looking at my online banking and noticed a charge of $84.99 for anti-virus protection for my computer.  I also noticed that it was a reputable firm and there was a phone number attached.  Only problem is, I didn’t order it but felt like it might be an automatic renewal.  However, I have a new computer and didn’t need the renewal.

I called the bank and they told me to first start the process I needed to call the company.  There was a number with the Memo Post on my account.  It was a Texas phone number but I also knew that didn’t necessarily mean the person on the other end was going to be in the Lone Star State.

So, I dialed the number and that started me on a 45-minute odyssey that caused my blood pressure to rise along with the hair on the back of my neck  and finally prompted me to utter a few expletives under my breath.

Call me old fashioned, but I trust people to be able to direct my call in the direction it needs to go, and showing that I’m not completely comfortable with all the modern gadgets at our daily disposal, I want it to be known that I don’t trust an automated voice to have the slightest inkling about who I need to talk to.

In fact, anytime I make a phone call and I’m greeted by a recorded voice I immediately become irritated and impatient. And I get even antsier when the recorded voice prompts me to talk to him/her … or it … or them … (I’m not sure what word to use when carrying on a conversation with a machine).

The message began by thanking me for calling and telling me to press 1 for English. This added to my angst because I think we should all speak English, period.  See, I told you I was politically incorrect.  However, trying to resolve this matter and get my $85 bucks back I pressed ‘1.’

The nasally automated male voice on the other end then told me that if I had a touch-tone phone I would have to make a simple choice about which specific department that I wanted to speak with.

Sounds pretty simple, huh? Well, let me assure you it’s not, especially for a person whose irritation and impatience are escalating by the second.
The ‘voice’ then reeled off a menu of five choices that were available. All I had to do was push the right button and I would soon be speaking with a person that could help me.

The secret, I learned long ago when dealing with an automated system that offers choices, is to wait until you’ve heard all the choices before making a decision. No matter how certain you are that number 1 or number 3 is the right one, I can assure you from past heartache and grief that you’re better off to listen to all the choices. Otherwise, you get to go back to square one and start all over again, which is not a pleasant experience.

The only catch, if you’re like me anyway, is that by the time all five choices are given, I’ve usually forgotten what the first three were. So, with great doubt I pushed the button I thought would get me to the right person, but was told that I would need a different department.

Then, when I tried to push the button for that department I was told by the ‘voice’ that I’d made an “invalid entry” and that I should place my call again. Nearly five minutes had elapsed since I placed the call and I never spoke with a real, live person.

Perhaps it’s an example of my resistance to change or the fact that I’m a baby boomer who can still recall the days of the ‘party-line’ when three or four families in the same neighborhood shared the same phone line, but I’m one of those people who find a certain measure of comfort and security in hearing a living, breathing human being – complete with a pulse and a heartbeat – on the other end of the telephone line.

Well, as I would learn during this experience … at least sometimes I do.

When I finally reached that person with a pulse and heartbeat he told me his name which I couldn’t understand and he began to speak with a heavy Middle Eastern or Indian accent.  I tried to explain to him why I was calling and what I needed but when he replied I had a very difficult time understanding him.  If I said, ‘pardon’ or ‘could you please repeat that’ once I said it a dozen times during the 10 minute call.  At one point, I simply said, ‘I’m sorry but I can’t understand you.’  How important, I asked myself more than once during the ordeal, is this $85 to you.

And let me say I am glad the young man is working – he just doesn’t need to be working in customer service.

After what seemed like all afternoon we finally got the matter resolved and just as the young man promised he sent me a confirmation email telling me that the money would be back in my account in 5-10 days.

After giving it some thought (about 15 seconds) I decided if the money is not back in my account in that time frame I’ll not make a return call and here’s why:  When factoring in my sanity, nerves, health, patience and perseverance, not to mention my time … I’m not sure it’s worth 85 bucks to endure – and I really do mean ‘endure’  — another experience with an automated phone system.