I would like to bring back something from the past.
Not 1980s hair.
Not shoulder pads.
Not pantyhose.
People answering telephones.
Actual human beings.
You called a company and somebody said:
“Good morning, how can I help you?”
And then—and younger people may find this difficult to believe—
THEY HELPED YOU.
There was no 17-minute obstacle course designed to determine how badly you really wanted to speak to another human being.
Now I call because there’s a strange charge on my bill and I’m greeted by:
“Thank you for calling. Please listen carefully, as our menu options have recently changed.”
Have they?
Because you’ve been saying that since 2007.
Then we begin.
“Press 1 for billing.”
Fine.
“Press 2 for account information.”
Okay.
“Press 3 if you’re thinking about billing while standing near your account information.”
I PRESS 1.
Then:
“Please enter your 14-digit account number followed by the pound key.”
Naturally, my account number is on the bill I can’t access because THAT’S WHY I’M CALLING YOU.
Eventually I find it.
I enter all 14 digits.
Then, after another six minutes, I finally reach a person.
And what is the first thing they ask?
“Can I have your account number, please?”
YOU ALREADY HAVE IT.
I JUST TYPED IT INTO YOUR ROBOT.
DID THE ROBOT EAT IT?
But my personal favourite is the voice recognition system.
“Please tell me in a few words why you’re calling.”
Billing.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.”
BILLING.
“Did you say technical support?”
NO.
BILL-ING.
“I’m sorry. I still didn’t understand.”
At this point I’m no longer speaking in my normal voice.
I’m leaning over the phone like I’m negotiating a hostage situation.
REPRESENTATIVE.
“I’m sorry—”
HUMAN.
“I’m sorry—”
AGENT!
“I’m sorry—”
A PERSON WITH A PULSE!!!
And apparently the robot has feelings because now it says:
“I understand this can be frustrating.”
Oh, DO YOU?
Because I’m pretty sure you’re the reason it’s frustrating.
Then there’s the hold music.
The same 11 seconds of instrumental music playing over and over until you start questioning every decision you’ve ever made.
Every few minutes the music stops.
Your heart leaps.
THIS IS IT.
Someone picked up!
No.
“Your call is very important to us.”
IS IT?
Because we’ve been together for 43 minutes and I’m beginning to question where this relationship is going.
Then the music starts again.
Eventually, a beautiful human voice appears.
“Hi, my name is Jennifer. How can I help you today?”
JENNIFER!!!
I could cry.
Jennifer, you beautiful angel.
I don’t even care about the bill anymore.
How are YOU?
How are the kids?
Do you need anything?
Would you like to come for Christmas?
Of course, Jennifer can’t actually fix my problem.
She has to transfer me to another department.
And that’s when she says the most terrifying words in modern society:
“Please hold while I transfer you.”
NO, JENNIFER.
DON’T LEAVE ME.
WE’VE COME TOO FAR.
But she does.
And suddenly…
click.
Disconnected.
There are moments in life that change a person.
Marriage.
Having children.
Losing someone you love.
And being disconnected after 57 minutes on hold.
So I call back.
“Thank you for calling. Please listen carefully, as our menu options have recently changed.”
And somewhere deep inside me…
something snaps.
I know technology has made life easier in a thousand ways.
But sometimes I miss picking up a telephone, dialing a number and hearing:
“Good afternoon, Susan speaking. How may I help you?”
No passwords.
No verification codes.
No chatbot.
No screaming REPRESENTATIVE into the phone like a woman who’s been stranded on a desert island.
Just one human being talking to another.
Honestly?
I’d even tolerate shoulder pads again if we could have that back.
❄️ Arctic Blonde Society
For those of us who remember when customer service actually involved a customer…and some service.
