In 5 seconds, this phone message
will make me self-destruct
By Beth Teitell
Wednesday, December 1, 2004
I was at the office, trying
to make reservations for a nonstop flight to Florida during school vacation week
(ha!), when, having had enough of the chipper automated ``person'' on the other
end of the line, I started yelling ``Agent! Agent!'' into the phone, in a desperate
attempt to reach someone who could help me get to Miami in less than nine and
half a hours, via Atlanta and Chicago. (When you're traveling with two pre-schoolers,
a direct flight is a matter of life and death. Literally).
My next-desk neighbor, who usually feigns deafness
for colleagues' personal calls, looked over. ``Is everything OK?'' she asked.
Actually, no. I'm creeped out by this new breed
of automated customer service personnel, with their folksy, Friday-casual voices
and their relentless good cheer. Good cheer, I might add, that flies in the face
of how poorly the transaction is going. ``I'm sorry! I didn't understand that
last command!''
And I fear there will be more of them soon. Giving
new meaning to the word ``chutzpah,'' the telemarketers are challenging the year-old
``Do Not Call'' list. The Voice Mail Broadcasting Institute wants the Federal
Trade Commission to allow companies to deliver recorded messages to existing customers
or those with whom they already have business relationships.
Hmm. Let's see. That makes sense. I don't want a
person to call me, but a machine, OK, I'll pick up, even if it's during dinner
time.
If the telemarketers win, you know they'll thwart
our impulse to hang up immediately by making the recordings as ``pally'' as they
can. ``Hi! I'm just calling to see how you're doing. How are the kids? How's the
weather out there?'' It won't be until 20 minutes into the damn message that we
finally learn that our ``friend'' is selling siding.
One reason companies such as Amtrak and United Airlines
like these customer service software programs - named Julie and Tim - is that
they save a lot of money. Computerized voices don't demand health-care benefits
or lunch breaks or get the flu - at least not yet.
But I wonder about the hostility factor. When I
mentioned the Verizon Nationwide 411 lady (she's unnamed, strangely) an outburst
erupted around me.
``We always get into fights,'' one woman told me.
``I say, `Canton, Massachusetts' and she says, `Boston, Massachustts, is that
right?' And I'm like `NO. I said CANTON.' ''
``I hate her,'' she added.
``Really?'' I asked, ``you hate a machine.''
``Yes,'' she said. ``I can't believe I'm saying
this, but I'd rather speak to a person.''
Especially one who isn't perky.
