See that smiling face in the image above? That’s who I want to answer the phone when I call. I don’t want to talk to a computer – I don’t want to talk to a machine. I want a real live person to talk to. If it isn’t the pretty young woman pictured above that’s okay too. I don’t care if it’s an ugly old hag with 1/2 her teeth missing. I want to talk to a person!
I do not want to press one for English. I live in an English speaking country. Why should I have to press anything to hear my language? If you don’t speak English then that’s your problem and I don’t care. You came here from somewhere else and I don’t see any reason why we have to accommodate you. An emergency? Dial 911.
If I seem a little upset it’s because I have just got off the phone with the Postal Service. Postal Service? That’s a major oxymoron!
I was expecting a package all day yesterday. Since it was an expensive item, a television set, I stayed home. All day. I not only stayed home I stayed where I could see the street.
I didn’t want the television to sit out on the enclosed front porch, where all my deliveries go. I didn’t want the delivery to sit out there for two reasons, 1. I didn’t want it stolen and 2. I didn’t want it sitting where there is no heat which could cause condensation in the television which would not be a good thing.
I waited. And waited. And waited some more. I finally went online to Amazon at about 4:15 to see if there was anything except – out for delivery posted. I was flabbergasted to find that “delivery had been attempted”.
Huh? Attempted? You open the door, put the package inside and ring the doorbell as you leave. It’s not an attempted, it’s a do it and its done. Ask Yoda.
It’s worked for many years for UPS, FedEx and the Postal Service. But not yesterday.
Incensed I quickly got on the phone and dialed the Postal Service. Bad decision. You don’t get to talk to people – you get to talk to a machine – a machine that hates you – a feeling quickly reciprocated.
You are a better person than I am if you can get through the “press this, spell that, name, address, zip code, phone number crap and remain calm. They ask any damn thing they can think to ask you except you bra size and your mother’s maiden name. This is all said slowly, very slowly, and explained as if you had the IQ of a tater tot.
If you are not answering the questions through gritted teeth by the end you have exhibited the iron nerves needed for brain surgery. On yourself.
Patience is not my strong suit. Once I have become annoyed patience is non-existent.
I am only using the Postal Service as an example because I had a problem with them yesterday. There are way too many examples I could mention with the same problem. Because way too many times there is no human being on the other end of a phone call.
If a call comes into my house and I can tell it’s some machine I immediately hang up. I do not want to talk to a machine.
I love technology. I wouldn’t trade my PC for the once beloved Remington Selectric I used back in the dark ages for anything.
I even like cell phones. They are handy and when used as necessary a wonderful invention. But when I see people with them pressed to their ear as if it was an appendage I shudder.
I love microwaves and remote control. I adore Email and reading current events on the computer. On-line I can sample many POV and after investigating find what I believe to be the truth. Technology is great.
But I don’t like my car talking to me. I don’t like it nagging me to buckle up before I’ve even gotten my aged butt settled in my seat. I don’t like bossy machines. It’s just one step closer to the time when they take over the world and eliminate all us imperfect organic folks.I don’t “do” Facebook or Twitter. I’m not that interesting and quite frankly from what I’ve read most of the people that post there aren’t either. They just like to think they are.
I don’t’ want to talk to a machine. I want to use technology but I want to be in charge. Personally I think the takeover began with the Roomba vacuum cleaner. That little bugger was up to something when it spent time out of sight under the couch.
Oh hell, all I wanted was to vent about my unhappy experience trying to contact the Post Office. I wanted to talk to a human being a figure out what went wrong.
So I gave up, gave in and spent 20 minutes pressing this, spelling that and answering questions from a machine. I resented every minute of it but I did it. If I don’t I may never get my television.
The $25.00 I saved by buying the television on Amazon instead of going to K-Mart might not be worth the aggravation. But I can’t talk to a human being to express that. And that’s why my head is about to explode.
I feel like a Hillary supporter on January 20th.