Number Menu Madness

Is it me, or are the little annoying things in life...getting more annoying?

Like spending an hour in line at the DMV just to find out it was the line to license a tractor. Or, taking your pet to the groomer just to find out it cost more to have your pet shampooed and manicured than it would cost to have yourself shampooed and manicured.

Case in point: some time ago I went to the doctor to have a pulled groin looked at. The doctor, after extensive poking and prodding, assured me that it was nothing more than a pulled groin and not much could be done about it except rest it. I signed out of the office, assumed insurance took care of it, and thought nothing of it for a very long time.

That is until almost a year later when I received a ridiculously large bill in the mail for that office visit, with the words 'claim denied' boldly stamped on it.
Surely there was a mistake. But to have the mistake fixed required calling my insurance company's 800 number.

That's when the fun started. You see, I'm certain who ever invented customer 'service' numbers had one thing in mind: to drive you crazy.
It starts with what I like to call Number Menu Madness.

You dial the 800 number and an automated voice comes on and says, "Por Espegnol, press one, for...Yiddish, press two. For Swahili, press three..." and the list goes on until the voice finally implores you, if you happen to speak English, to stay on the line for the next menu.

That's when they play muzak for you. Not music, but muzak. Because music probably cost extra. (My personal favorite is the theme to I dream of Genie. Sometimes I call 800 numbers just so I can listen for nastalgia's sake).

Eventually the automated voice comes back and says something like, "For account information, say 'account information' or press one...For recent activity, say 'recent activity,' or press two..." followed by many more options.
None of which are the one you are looking for! They're never the one you're looking for! Because they are out to DRIVE YOU CRAZY! But you have to pick one, because you have this vain hope that it might eventually lead you to a menu that does have the option you're looking for.

And being lazy, you decide not to bother pressing your choice on the keypad, but rather take advantage of the neat voice recognition software and say into the phone, "File a first time claim." This is followed by the voice coming back and saying, "I'm sorry, but 'Funky Monkey lovin' was not an option. Please choose again." You relent and use the keypad.

But none of the options on the following menu are what you want either. You choose option nine, 'return to previous menu.' After many fruitless forrays, you start to feel like you are in one of those gameshows where you start out with so much money, but every time you make a wrong selection you have money subtracted. But in this case, it's not money you're losing, it's your SANITY!

Then you have an epiphany. You remember from other customer service menus you've dealt with that there is a magic number. A magic selection. That's right: zero. Press zero to speak to a representative. A human being. You press zero, and you hear an actual voice come on. and you're feeling pretty good about yourself because you've beat the system. But that's about when your smile drops because the person on the other end is not speaking English.

Oh, you have made all the proper selections along the way to choose English, but you see, nowadays, company's have contracted their call senters oversees to places like China, India and Nepal to save an extra buck.The individual speaking to you maybe a highly educated service provider, but their English sucks. My insurance company has gone a step even further to save an extra buck. They've contracted their service center to an early work release program with a prison in Yorkshire England.

So the woman on the phone may have been speaking English, but I didn't understand her. She sounded a lot like Eliza Doolittle from My Fair Lady.
I wasn't getting very far with her while trying to explain my problem. In frustration I finally blurted out, "Could I speak to somebody there who speaks English?"
"I am speaking english," she replied indignantly. "I am English."
"Well, can I speak to somebody who speaks better English? How about the Earl of Manchester? Is he there? Or maybe the Queen? I bet her English is pretty good, let me speak to her."

That didn't get me very far.

But after some more back and forth, I finally get my complaint understood: I'm being charged for something simple that should have been completely covered by the company. A mere office visit.

I hear the tapping of a keyboard over the phone, followed by a pause. "Well here is the problem," she says, "according to the medical code assigned to your office visit, you had elective surgery performed, which is not covered under your policy."

"Elective surgery?" I said.

"Yes, cosmetic surgery. You had male enhancement performed on you."

"Whoa, hey, no," I cried. "I did not have male enhancement done! I had a pulled-groin! That's completely different!"
More back and forth ensues, including a long discussion on the nuances of what a pulled groin is, and whether or not women can have them.

Eventually I convince her that it was not elective surgery and she gets authorization to change the medical code.

With a sigh of relief, and just when I think I'm going to get away with my sanity intact, the customer representative says, "Have a nice day, it was a pleasure doing business with you and good luck with that vasectomy."