I can’t help but notice these days how difficult it is to get a human on the phone when trying to sort out anything to do with any type of account you may have, (which is excessive anyway, the fact that almost everything requires you to have an account to use or access a service warrants a blog post all on its own).
And is it just me or are they pretty much all incompetent? Like the whole thing is set up to do nothing for you. I’m so done with it all, but I can’t be, because I still need the services that require accounts that force you to delve into the hilariously frustrating world of modern business. Cos let’s face it, you have to either laugh or you’ll go completely mental, ready to rage quit attempting to sort anything out that ultimately benefits you. Although not so secretly I think that’s the grand corporate plan. You just need to keep paying them and don’t complain about any of their shoddy and sub-par practices. But I just cannot and like most people I want an explanation when suddenly I discover that the service I’ve been relying on has morphed into an unrecognizable beast or has gone up in price without so much as a courtesy email.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t appreciate my routine being disrupted by a company’s whims. It’s like they decided to throw a surprise party, and the surprise is that they’ve changed everything without telling you. Or the service you’re paying for resembles nothing you first agreed to, or it just doesn’t work. Or, or, or…
So, you muster up the courage to call their customer service line, only to be greeted by an automated voice that seems to exist solely to test the limits of your patience. “Press 1 for absurdity, 2 for frustration, and 3 for an existential crisis induced by corporate shenanigans.” You desperately stab at your keypad, trying to find the magic combination that will connect you to a human being. I remember the days of being able to press the 0 key continually which would bypass the BS and connect you to a human. But not anymore, now all you hear is the stupid half-assed, “We apologize for longer than usual wait times and thank you for your patience…”
So here’s an idea, hire more people. Maybe pay them more, stop making million-dollar profits the main concern, and provide a livable wage for the unfortunate folks that get paid sweet f.a to talk to irate people all day long.
And don’t even get me started on the hold music – it’s like they picked the most grating tunes from the ’90s and early ’00s and put them on a loop. You begin to wonder if this is some avant-garde experiment in psychological torture. Is there a hidden camera somewhere, documenting your descent into madness as you wait for a customer service representative?
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of entering your details and security questions, and attempting to select the issue closest to yours (because they never actually include the option you want), you hear the sweet sound of a real, live human being on the other end.
But wait, first you have to verify yourself, your account and date of birth, social security number, mother’s maiden name, date of birth of your first dog, secret code to the Vatican, the date the Statue of Liberty was erected, etc, again, because you’ve only just done it and people are out there wanting to alter your account so badly they may get caught out on the second time they are required to repeat these things.
And finally “How may I help you today?” they ask, as if your seething frustration at being forced to waste your own time is just a minor inconvenience. Oh, I don’t know, maybe by not changing everything without a heads-up?
Turns out the human is not there to solve your problems; they’re there to engage in a verbal sparring match and to treat you like you are attempting to hack someone else’s account because I guess strangers like wasting their time and testing their limits of tolerance to ask about a random stranger’s increase in charges, or changing the agreed upon service. It’s like they went through customer service training at the School of “Defense Against the Angry Customer” Arts. They deflect, they dodge, offer hollow apologies and justifications read straight from a script as they weave through your complaints like a seasoned boxer avoiding punches, as they make you repeat it all for the third time.
But it doesn’t end there. The moment you express your dissatisfaction, they hit you with the classic line: “We care about our customers.” Really? Because it doesn’t feel that way when I’m stuck in this never-ending loop of automated nonsense and vague promises of resolution. It’s like they have a handbook titled “How to Alienate Customers in 10 Easy Steps,” and they’re following it diligently.
And let’s not forget those oh-so-endearing catchphrases they throw around like confetti. “Your satisfaction is our top priority,” they chirp, while simultaneously making it clear that your satisfaction is about as high on their list as cleaning the office bathroom. It’s a linguistic dance of deception, and you’re the unwilling partner.
As the call progresses, your frustration grows, and you can hear it in your voice – a blunt, short tone that echoes the primal rage building within you. You’re no longer a customer; you’re a warrior battling the automated forces of corporate indifference.
And just when you think you might be getting somewhere, they hit you with the grand finale – the classic redirect. “I understand your issue and appreciate your concerns, but let me transfer you to another department that may be better equipped to assist you.”
Spoiler alert: It’s the same department, with the same automated loops and the same infuriating hold music, and you discover they don’t communicate with each other or note anything on your account, and you have to go through the same messed up process all over again. Sometimes you get cut off, and have to start over. It’s about now that you’re starting to wonder if you could just live with the change in services/broken link/mess up on their end. But NO you remind yourself that what they are doing is not what you pay for!
By the time you’ve navigated this labyrinth of lunacy, you’re not just dissatisfied – you’re contemplating starting your own self-sufficient commune in the mountains. Who needs modern amenities when you can escape the clutches of soul-sucking modern business models?
In the grand scheme of things, what do these companies even provide anymore? Crappy customer service, longer-than-expected wait times, and a masterclass in the art of deflecting responsibility. It’s not customer service; it’s customer shafting. The argument for living in a self-sufficient community often seems like the most rational choice.
Except it doesn’t.
So, here’s to another year of navigating the absurdity of modern businesses, armed with sarcasm and a healthy dose of humor. May your calls to customer service be swift, your hold music tolerable, and your torturous phone calls be few. Cheers to surviving the customer circus!
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