Pick up the receiver, make me a believer
I don’t want to sound like Methuselah, but a long time ago, before I grew a long, white beard and dispensed knowledge to my acolytes, I could call a person or business center, and someone would pick up on the other end.
Remember when you could talk to people? I do. You didn’t have to press 1, 5, the number sign, or yell “Billing!” or “Schedule an appointment” into the phone. You just dialed a phone (an archaic device known as a landline), and someone said, “Hello.”
The concept seems outrageous, but nothing makes me feel like I’m 100 years old more than having to press additional digits to speak to a living human being.
Side note: I’ll buy a Ouija Board if I need to talk to the dead ones.
But I digress, like I do. I love it when you get, “Please listen closely as your menu options have changed” at a business you’ve never called before. It’s new to me, but I’m listening closely regardless, because the minute I get distracted by another noise, I’ll have to listen to the menu from the beginning. Once, I listened to the main menu three times because I could hear my neighbors outside chatting at the bus stop.
“Did she say five for billing? And three to schedule an appointment?” Yes. I gendered the feminine robot voice. It should be it, but the robot sounds like a person — a robotic, alien person, but a person nonetheless.
“If it’s an emergency, please hang up and dial 911.” I already know that. If my arm is falling off my body, I’m not even going to bother calling. I’m going straight to the emergency room.
Now I dial the phone and get, “Your call is very important to us, and someone will be with you shortly.” If my call was so important, why doesn’t someone pick up the phone and actually talk to me? I don’t feel very important.
Walk into any business, and you will see a receptionist talking to someone on the phone. I think, “I want to be that person.” How do I get the receptionist to talk to me? To be clear, I don’t want to date the receptionist. I don’t even want to be their friend. I want them to answer my questions. I’m not even asking for GOOD customer service, just customer service. Good is higher on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.
In a drugstore, I once waited in line while the cashier spoke to a person on the phone. I thought, “I’m here in person, and someone on the phone is getting better service.”
If only I knew how to navigate the maze of recorded prompts to reach a person, I would have done it, too. Alas, I don’t.
Artificial intelligence is designed to make life easier and simpler. Maybe someday it will. Today is not that day.
P.S. Don’t tell the machines any of this; I don’t want to make them any angrier at me.