Voicemail answering labyrinth systems suck. Big time. My hatred for them borders on unnatural. Oftentimes when dealing with them, I lose my angelic-like demeanor and find myself screaming at the digi-voice on the other end of the line, which serves no purpose other than to blow off some steam at my end. That computer bitch, quite consistently, remains unperturbed.
My favorite is when I give them all my information up front. My name, account number, the last four digits of my social, and then when I actually get to talk to a real live person, they ask me for my name, account number and the last four digits of my social. GAAAAAA! Why? I never in a million years thought I’d say this, but I really miss all the mean phone receptionists I used to hate.
And another thing. The voicemail computers never seem to have a choice for what it is that I’m calling them about. Choice one: track a package. Choice two: pick up a package. Choice three: buy shipping supplies. There’s never a choice that says: Our totally lame shipping company screwed up and delivered a package to your house that didn’t belong to you and that you think the person to whom it does belong might be missing it, even though you’d really like some new dishes from Williams Sonoma yourself, but you want to do the right thing and even though the person to whom the package does belong only lives a couple blocks away, you’re not a package delivery person, and the box is huge and heavy and as any good attorney would tell you, you wouldn’t want to deliver it yourself just in case the idiot that delivered it to the wrong address in the first place happened to have broken all the porcelain salad plates all on his own before it got to you and you’d end up assuming some sort of stupid legal liability for the busted plates.
See what I mean about the limited choices?
So instead of making one simple phone call, I ended up having to send an email instead, explaining what happened and why their voicemail sucks and that I really don’t have time for this kind of s^&% (And don’t you be a smarty pants and say how I managed to find the time to write a 500 word rant about voicemail mazes, either! I’m just doing my job here!)
I’ve never met anyone who loves talking to those computers. In fact, a co-worker, I will call him “Bob,” once told me to drop an F-bomb on the line and I’ll find myself immediately connected to a person. Well, let me tell you, this didn’t work at a certain unnamed shipping company this morning. Not that I actually dropped an F-bomb in frustration after talking to a robot. I just wanted to test it.
What really bakes my noodle is the fact that Toyota is using a fake voicemail labyrinth as a marketing tool for their annual Toyota-thon in their radio commercials. Who in their right mind thought this was a good idea? (probably the same MBA ass-clown who thought voice-mail rat warrens were a good idea.) “Press one for Camry” Are they serious? How about I press Zero for how much money you’re going to get from me with your stupid ad that reminds me how much I hate voicemail systems.
Welcome to the modern age, I suppose, but I'm looking forward to the day when I can program my robot to make my outgoing calls when I have to talk to some awful business and am just trying to do the right thing, so instead of me, I can make them feel like some sort of crazed Roomba backed into a corner, going around and around and around. I'll make that choice eight.
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