
What should have been a quick call turned into a colossal waste of time for local man Barry Gervais. Displeased with the lack of cell phone service in his apartment, he headed to a nearby restaurant and dialed up his provider. However, his call was answered not by a human representative, but by a recorded voice who asked him to hold.
“What a nightmare,” Gervais later told reporters, having wasted twelve precious minutes waiting for someone to take his call. “I planned to go for a walk today, and maybe relax with a crossword, but I guess that’s all out the window now.”
“What a nightmare,” Gervais later told reporters, having wasted twelve precious minutes waiting for someone to take his call. “I planned to go for a walk today, and maybe relax with a crossword, but I guess that’s all out the window now.”
The worst part of the experience, Gervais said, was the hold music.
“Technology’s come a long way, yeah? You’d think they’d be able to play something decent while I’m wasting away my free time. But no, on top of this poor service, their hold music sounds like it’s coming from a haunted record player. Pretty sure I heard ‘hail Satan’ a few times in the garbled mess.”
The experience was traumatic for Gervais, who, after the ten minute mark, agonized over whether he should hang up, losing that time forever to the void, or continue feeding his day into the meat grinder.
“I pay a pretty penny for my cell service. All those damn commercials with the coverage maps made me think I’d chosen well, but I guess this highly profitable provider only hired one customer service representative.”
When he finally got through after twelve minutes and forty-two seconds, or half an episode of Golden Girls he could have been watching, the representative finally answered. It took another three minutes for them to resolve the problem, which involved turning his phone off and back on again.
“Technology’s come a long way, yeah? You’d think they’d be able to play something decent while I’m wasting away my free time. But no, on top of this poor service, their hold music sounds like it’s coming from a haunted record player. Pretty sure I heard ‘hail Satan’ a few times in the garbled mess.”
The experience was traumatic for Gervais, who, after the ten minute mark, agonized over whether he should hang up, losing that time forever to the void, or continue feeding his day into the meat grinder.
“I pay a pretty penny for my cell service. All those damn commercials with the coverage maps made me think I’d chosen well, but I guess this highly profitable provider only hired one customer service representative.”
When he finally got through after twelve minutes and forty-two seconds, or half an episode of Golden Girls he could have been watching, the representative finally answered. It took another three minutes for them to resolve the problem, which involved turning his phone off and back on again.