Who do I have to call to talk to a real person?
Modern technology is a wonderful thing, with computers and smart
phones and TiVo among the devices that have made our world more
convenient and entertaining.
There is a downside to these advances, however. The days of
personal service the way we used to experience it are gone. Now,
computerized voices answer our phone calls, listen to and
understand our voices and respond to us in a way that frankly is
disconcerting.
Who do I have to call to talk to a real person?
Modern technology is a wonderful thing, with computers and smart phones and TiVo among the devices that have made our world more convenient and entertaining.
There is a downside to these advances, however. The days of personal service the way we used to experience it are gone. Now, computerized voices answer our phone calls, listen to and understand our voices and respond to us in a way that frankly is disconcerting.
This week I had to call the phone company to point out an issue with my DSL service. After dialing the toll-free number, a friendly-sounding robot or computer answered the phone with a cheery voice and offered to help me.
I provided my phone number, as instructed, and was told by Mr. Roboto that all would be well. That’s usually what the robots tell humans in movies just before they take over the world.
I provided my number and he – or it – understood what I said and sent me on to the next option. He asked me for my address, which I provided, but then I coughed into the phone and he thought I changed my answer.
“You said, 1-4-3-8, is that correct?” he said.
“No,” I said, worried that my attempt at getting customer service was ruined.
Then I coughed again, this time covering the phone so the computer dude would not hear me.
“Did you say yes?” he asked.
“No,” I responded, with a note of frustration that I doubt he was able to detect.
Wanting to bail out of this strange human-computer interaction but still in need of customer service, I did what I should have done five minutes earlier – I dialed “0” for an operator, hoping to reach a human.
To my relief, the phone rang and a real person – as far as I could tell – answered the phone.
He asked me for me phone number and way over-sold the service he was about to provide.
“It is my goal to provide you with all the answers you seek and to ensure that all of your customer service needs are met,” he said.
That’s great, I thought, but I wasn’t looking for a hero, just a solution.
After I gave him my name, he asked, “May I call you Adam?”
I wanted to say, “I guess so, unless you can think of a clever nickname.” Instead, I said “yes,” since Adam is my name. I wonder if anyone says no to that question.
“No, you may not call me Adam. You may call me sir.”
After I did my best to explain the problem I was experiencing, the human operator asked, “Would you mind if I put you on a brief hold?”
“Sure,” I said, knowing that there is no such thing as a “brief hold.” And even if it is sort of brief, it seems way longer when the elevator music plays on the phone.
Ultimately, he did address my concern, though it was not the solution I was hoping for. Still, he was friendly – as humans go – so he did his job.
In this new world of immediate feedback, the customer service guy then asked me how I would rate the call: “Are you extremely satisfied, satisfied or not satisfied with the service I provided.”
Geez, let the call soak in a bit, won’t you?
“Um, extremely satisfied,” I said, almost in the form of a question. The guy did his best, I guess, but my problem wasn’t resolved. Maybe I should have changed my answer. Maybe I should have asked him to transfer me back to Mr. Roboto, so I could give him a piece of my mind.
Come to think of it, I wouldn’t want him getting mad. He might tell my TiVo what a jerk I was and sabotage my shows.
Adam Breen teaches newspaper and yearbook classes at San Benito High School and is a reporter for The Pinnacle. He is former editor of the Free Lance. He can be reached by e-mail at
ab****@pi**********.com
.
