I’m presently on my way back from a trip – in fact, I’m writing this on my iPad at 35,000 feet, wishing I’d brought my laptop with me instead.
I was a week in the UK, having to make lots of calls. Something that struck me – as I sat through hold music that ranged from one-fingered piano renderings to repetitive orchestral compositions – is that surely we can build a better mousetrap here.
Right after I dialled the number – any number for a recognised institution – my ears were assaulted by the automated War-and-Peace verbosity that preceded even being able to choose an option of service (the “For XXX, please press ‘1’ …” delight). I was absolutely held hostage by two-to-three-minute ramblings about probably everything I needed could be found on their website, and if I had questions A-Z, it was doubtful a live agent could help me anyway. I was persistently told I could hang up and contact them online, or I could leave a number and they would call me back when someone was available.
The whole thing was like a test – if you could be bothered to keep hanging on and resist all its attempts to throw you off the scent, then fine, fine … you can talk to someone.
If any of you have watched the superb show ‘Pluribus’ (starring the amazing Rhea Seehorn), you’ll be familiar with when the protagonist, Carol, has to call the ‘beings’, and every time must sit through a long explanation as to why they can’t speak to her right now, but she can leave a message regarding what she wants.
Carol, I feel ya.
What’s worse is when you’ve sat through all of it, you ready yourself to speak to someone, and then the call drops out.
BARNACCCCLLLLESSSS!!!!
Here’s my suggestion: Why not open the automated answer service with “If you’ve heard all this faff before; are well aware of what we offer on our website; and would like to speak to a human being before you lose the will to live, please press ‘1’.”
Screaming “Representative!” down the receiver seems to work most of the time in the US, yet the UK is determined to give you alllll the facts, no matter how many times you try to interrupt.
Maybe we just haven’t learned the code word yet. What would the British alternative of “Representative” be? “Lovely helpful person”? “Jolly knowledgeable agent”? “Oi! Mate!”?
Another Game of Phones that drives me nuts is when you call a number you’ve rung regularly, and they always have the message, “Please listen carefully, as some of our menu options have changed”, right from the off.
So, instead of pressing “2,1,3,2,2” in rapid succession because I know that will take me through the flowchart to my destination, I sit and listen to exactly the same list of options and numbers I heard two years’ prior. Why do I do this to myself? I know they haven’t changed. And even if they have, will the world end if my number sequence no longer takes me to the right place? What are the odds of: “2” followed by “ … and that’s the nuclear button pressed! We told you some menu options had changed!”
Here comes my next note … since when does having an international number mean you might as well have leprosy? I cannot be the only one who’s waited 30 minutes on hold to speak to someone at an airline, or a credit card agency, or a hospital, and if we get cut off, they ain’t calling me back. I’ve had major company representatives (jolly knowledgeable agents) tell me that if we get disconnected, unfortunately they can’t call me back because I’m an international customer.
But they knew that, and they’re happy to take my custom, but anyone outside the contiguous United States might as well be on the moon if you need to contact them? Get a magicJack, or whatever replaced Skype and use that. If a number is unobtainable to me, for whatever reason (don’t get me started on our local providers and toll-free US numbers that I can’t even pay to access), I get an app. When Skype died, I went with Yolla.
I’m one (not so) little person who can find a way around it, so why can’t you, you big conglomerate, you?
Does anyone check voicemails anymore? I’m not necessarily talking about us private citizens – I mean companies, when you call and get a recording that encourages you to leave a message and someone will get back to you at their earliest convenience.
And hey, slight tangent here, I have always thought that message sounded slightly selfish … so I Googled it, and AI had this to say:
“At my earliest convenience” is often perceived as rude, condescending, or self-centred because it implies you will act only when it suits you, rather than prioritising the recipient’s needs. While intended to mean “as soon as I can”, it often sounds like “I’ll get to it when I’m good and ready.”
Preach! I totally agree. AI, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.
But anyway, back to leaving messages. Admit it – in this day and age, are you not startled when you actually get a call back as the result of a left message? I am downright flabbergasted. Bad enough when you get a specific staff member’s mailbox – maybe there’s a slim chance of acknowledgment – but if you get that automated voice asking you to leave a message, followed by, ‘GEN-ral MAIL-box’, you’re doomed. The first indication is when it tells you “mailbox is full” before you’ve uttered a word. At least it’s ripping the Band-Aid off without giving you a wisp of hope. If you get past the “beep” and record something, don’t worry – they’ll put their best person on it. Honest.
Really, what all of this boils down to – whether it’s my experiences in the UK, calling large companies in the US, or trying to get hold of a local representative (lovely helpful person) at some Cayman banks – it’s the reduction in staff and people that causes the bottleneck.
More humans, less automation, pretty please. (But I still side with AI on the ‘earliest convenience’ thing.)
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