Technical Support

My laptop battery died after three months. I'm on hold right now with IBM in Atlanta, Georgia. It took me a solid 10 minutes, going through about 15 automated options to get there. You know, "Hello. You've reached IBM technical support. For existing tickets, press one, for new tickets, press two, for concert tickets, press three, for traffic tickets, press four, for Levono products, press five."

Once I finally got to the Atlanta connection, I sat on hold, listening to soft jazz, punctuated by a message every minute saying "Thank you for holding. All our customer representatives are helping other customers. We will be right with you." That was another solid ten minutes. Finally I hear the line ringing and a thickly accented man saying, "This really is Atlanta, Georgia, even though I sound like I'm in a far away Middle Eastern country. What is your fr digi nmba?" "I'm sorry, Mr. Technical Support Man, I didn't catch the last thing you said." "What is your FOUR DIGIT NUMBER." "For what?" "For da par you clmeantarasy." "I'm sorry Mr. Technical Support Man, I'm having difficulty understanding you." "One moment please."

Wow. That's pretty progressive. He realized I can't understand him, so he's going to look for someone with a milder accent who speaks slower. How great is that!

The line rings. How exciting! The automated voice begins. "Hello, you've reached IBM technical support. For an existing ticket, press one. For a new ticket, press two. For razor blades or a gun, press three." That's what you get for not understanding the technical support guy's accent. He's safe. I can never find him. And he's laughing in his cubicle as he hits the transfer button, sending me into another ten minutes of phone tree button pushing to get back to Atlanta.