Tuesday, 25 August 2009

If you would like to press one, press one..

I found my self missing the good old days of call-centres the other day. Remember? You used to get the opportunity to press a key and slickly get transferred through a clearly laid out menu system until your query was politely and quickly by a good natured agent. The whole process would leave you glowing warmly and at peace with the world.

A well known telecommunications company has decided to rob us of this particular access to nirvana, by humanising the machines.
Now, you get the opportunity to speak to the machine and faboulous voice recognition technology will understand and answer it.

My query related to a direct debit I had requested not being set up and me being billed for late payment.

"Please tell us why you are calling us?"

"You haven't set up the direct debit I requested"

Silence for a few seconds...

"Would you like a balance statement?"

"No. I'd like to know why you haven't set up the direct debit I requested?"

Silence for a few seconds...

"Would you like to set up a balance transfer?"

"No you've charged me and not set up the direct debit I requested."

Silence for a few seconds...

"Would you like to set up a direct debit?"

"No I did that last month, or tried to- it hasn't worked, now I'm out of pocket!"

"Sorry we didn't understand. If you would like a balance transfer press one..."

They promised me jet-packs and teleportation. What went wrong?


Planet Mondo said...

Have you tried the Apple hotline what's that like?

My old Zen has started cutting out on one ear (after 4 years service and at least 3 hours play-time per day).

I almost wobbled and got an iPo - but it didn't have the functionality I needed - so grabbed a 120gb Zen..for £100 earth pounds from the bay.

BPP said...

I thought you'd upped and fucked off of the Internet, Valentine. Glad to see you're still knocking about.

I would comment on what you've written, only I can't be arsed to read it.

Is it about your dogs again? Or camping?

Valentine Suicide said...

It was a stunningly written account of ten MORE things I've got on my iPod.

Your loss, Perry.