Talking to Customer Service; Is It Extinct?

Photo by Boston Public Library on Unsplash

I miss the Telephone Operator. Those were the good ole days. You called customer service and instantly, a voice came through crystal clear, sincere, and so sweet. “This is the company of business past, how can I help you?” Music to my ears. I explained my problem and bang. I could really sense her efforts in solving my problem. And within five minutes the issue was resolved. I hung up with relief from the burden and a smile on my face. I was happier after the phone call.

I'm venting my frustration and anger at the fact that we cannot get a live person anymore. What has happened to customer support? Did they disappear? Are they on holiday? They were the pioneers of remote work. Where did they go? Is it “a number that has been disconnected and is no longer in service”? In the past, the ‘Contact Us’ tab on the corporate website was prominently featured on the header of the website. Now, I must scroll down to the bottom, the very bottom, of the website and tease out the Contact Us prompt in the fine print of the menu list of options. And then there is the virtual assistance. Who or what are they? Are they real or are they some form of an automated computer algorithm for text messaging? I’m confused.

I long for the voice that promptly appears once I called. Now, I am lucky to find a voice after spending seven minutes listening “to the menu options, because they have recently changed.” Spoiler alert, the menu options always have changed, will change, and will forever change. I dread calling customer support and hearing the automation prompts. Dial one for this, dial two for that, but the reason I’m calling isn’t an option. I press zero for the operator, and I hear “that is not an option.” I yell out, “representative,” and the reply is “I didn’t understand that.” I press option seven “to take me back to the main menu,” and I waste my time listening to the same menu options a second time for an additional 10 minutes. I look at my cell phone and it indicates that I have been on the line for twenty-seven minutes, I’m lost in this maze of menu options. This is what quicksand is like in the metaverse. Who should I thank Elon Musk or Mark Zuckerberg? Maybe I should google this. I can’t I'm still on the phone.

Through some ripple in the metaverse, I get an alien teleprompt that asks, “What can I help you with”. The prompt sounds sincere and after my response, I can hear the prompt furiously typing away. I can’t stand that. I know that it is a computer-generated sound. Why insult my intelligence. My cellphone reminds me that I have been on the line for 37 minutes. I should have hung up. But I need this resolved. I wish I was like Julius Ceasar; instead, I smirk, I sigh, I simmer.

Just for kicks and utter frustration, I go back to the main menu. I press two for Spanish. By some miracle after some random presses. I hear a voice. A beautiful Siren that is angelic to my soul. She speaks Spanish. I don’t understand Spanish. I reply in the best Spanish I can muster, “ Me no Hablo Espaniol.” She answers, “ How can I help you?” I hear angels singing to me. I’m in Heaven. Heaven’s to Betsy, she’s bilingual. I tell her my problem and she solves it instantly. I'm doing the happy dance while on my cell phone.

It seems ironic that companies have learned to invade our privacy with those annoying spam calls to our cell phone numbers. But when we need their company’s services, and truly want to talk to them, the company has built so many layers of menu options and virtual automation it has the opposite effect. The customer feels like a lab rat in a dead-end maze, flustered, confused, and angry. Didn’t Harvard Business School teach their MBA students to listen to their customers? So the next time I get a spam call from the company, I won't feel any remorse when I don’t answer or just hang up. Do you think I'm rude? At least I didn't leave them on the line for 57 minutes.