According to Hofmann: Press 0 and fight the machines
As a reporter, I have to talk to a lot of people over the phone because I have to interview them and ask them questions like, 鈥淲hy are you running for public office?,鈥� 鈥淲here is the office?,鈥� 鈥淲hy were you found trying to smuggle a goat across state lines?, and 鈥淎re you serious?鈥�
While that鈥檚 not fun at all, making phone calls is especially not fun in my private life-you know, the stuff behind closed doors that I end up putting in a newspaper column every week.
I, myself, me and the rest of us have to make phone calls to companies every now and then, but all of us (I can鈥檛 speak for myself, me and I, but I鈥檓 sure the remainder of you feel the same) find it to be the most loathsome, tedious thing to do on the planet 鈥� with the exception of running for public office, of course.
Whenever I call and have to deal with those automated operators, I pretty much feel like my intelligence is being insulted when I have to 鈥渢alk鈥� with them.
鈥淗ello there 鈥� Mark,鈥� is one prerecorded lady鈥檚 voice says whenever I call to make a cable payment as I鈥檓 supposed to feel good that this software program matched my phone number to the account that鈥檚 under my name.
They say your own name is the thing you like to hear the most unless you鈥檙e being called to step up to the gallows, but I have to say that I find hearing this computer say my name is a bit off putting, which is why I鈥檓 thinking about legally changing my name to something more complicated. I鈥檇 like to listen for the computer to stumble, spark, crackle, turn against its own program and self delete.
It鈥檚 either the computer knows me when I鈥檓 calling or I get this message when I call: 鈥淎ll of our operators are busy with other callers, but I鈥檓 here to help you. Please say your name so I can look up your account.鈥�
鈥淢ark Hofmann,鈥� I say.
鈥淚鈥檓 sorry, but I didn鈥檛 quite catch that,鈥� it replies. 鈥淧lease say your name so I can look up your account.鈥�
I know that it鈥檚 picking up background noise so it thinks I鈥檓 saying, 鈥淢arhfdoivwouvhsojgpebsovpwfmann,鈥� but how much do I have to enunciate for this soulless machine to understand me?
Turns out, after 32 attempts of saying my names in different tones, dialects, accents and imitations of Yakov Smirnoff and Christopher Walken, the computer finally realizes that I鈥檓 me and lets me proceed before throwing more humor-column fodder my way.
鈥淧lease wait, while I look up that account,鈥� the disembodied voice says followed by the sounds of clacking from a keyboard as it鈥檚 trying to convince me that a person is actually typing information to bring my account up.
I really don鈥檛 know who they鈥檙e trying to fool-maybe a retired typing teacher who鈥檚 nodding along and saying, 鈥淥h, my. They鈥檙e typing a good 90 words a minute!鈥�
Anyway, back to waging verbal war against a machine.
The machine鈥檚 next weapon is the guilt trip because it has your info and knows you鈥檝e been naughty and haven鈥檛 paid your bill on time. At least, when you speak with a human on the other line, a sob story can get you a break, but when I鈥檓 faced with a megabyte bill collector, I think of what Michael Beihn鈥檚 character, Reese, said in 鈥淭he Terminator.鈥�
鈥淚t doesn鈥檛 feel pity, or remorse, or fear and it absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead.鈥�
Okay, that鈥檚 too much because I鈥檓 sure it would stop if there鈥檚 a power surge or something, but what can you say to these things over the phone?
鈥淚 know the credit-card bill is late, but I was, uh 鈥� goat sitting for my friend while he鈥檚 under federal investigation for, well, we won鈥檛 get into the details of that. Anyway, the goat decided to snack on all the bills I had on my table including the credit card bill, and I forgot to get in touch with the credit card company because I was overwhelmed with joy that my friend鈥檚 investigation was tossed out, but I鈥檒l get the minimum payment to you ASAP, I promise!鈥�
鈥溾�RROR! ERROR! NON-SEQUITUR! HUMAN EXTINCTION MUST COMMENCE!鈥�
Now, I鈥檓 all for making life as stress-free as possible, so my advice for you this week (even though this is far from an advice column,) is just press 0 and bypass all the computer gibberish that won鈥檛 be able to understand anything you say anyway.
You may have to wait a few minutes to an hour or three longer, but then you鈥檒l be in touch with a real human being who knows what you鈥檙e saying and knows his stuff and, God willing, he sympathizes with your plight and your friend鈥檚 bill-eating goat.
According to Hofmann is written by staff reporter Mark Hofmann of Rostraver Township. His books, 鈥淕ood Mourning! A Guide to Biting the Big One 鈥� and Dying, Too鈥� and 鈥淪tupid Brain,鈥� are available on Amazon.com.