Thursday, December 16, 2004

"Please Make a Note of It."

Well, you may have finally given me a reason not to hate those messages, Lisa.

Really, it's not so much the "If you know your party's extension, you may enter it at any time," or the "For our business hours, please press 1" that bug me; it's the goddamn "We are using a service that can recognize your voice" ones that make me want to commit homicide.

True "conversation" I had recently with the Verizon DSL "voice":
Her: Please enter or say the ten-digit telephone number associated with your account.
[I did]
Her: Okay, now please tell me, briefly, the reason for your call.
Me: Oh, um... okay, I, uh... well, my wife can't access her email. She's getting an error.
SILENCE
Me: She's using Outl--
Her: [Interrupting] I'm sorry, I wasn't able to get that. Please try again.
Me: Outlook. Error. Email.... Can't access.
Her: Okay, I still didn't understand. Here's a list of options to choose from. When you hear the one you want--
Me:[Interrupting] Oh, fuck it.
My feeling: If you have a list of options, just list the fucking options at the beginning of the fucking call. I don't need to be made to feel that I'm talking with someone who can help me when I'm clearly not.

[Follow-up: For those of you who Googled, say, "Verizon DSL fuck" and reached this post, here are the choices when you reach that voice prompt:
  • technical assistance
  • installation support
  • order status
  • billing
  • new service
  • cancel service
  • other
No idea what "other" gets you. Perhaps a party line with other Verizon customers who got lost in the menu mist.]

NOW, as for that gig at Third Wave, they are definitely moving a step up from the current hoochie who talks at you when you call. There may be a geographical area associated with her accent, but I sure wouldn't want to get a flat tire anywhere near it!

I shall call them endlessly, waiting for the day when Lisa's sweet, silky voice replaces Nurse Ratchett's... at which point I shall probably commence calling them endlessly.

Tangent: Molecular Diagnostics? I wonder how many prank calls they get from bitter women claiming they've got a job for them, looking in their ex-boyfriend's/-husband's pants.

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