I type this as I continue to wait for a human on the phone to HMRC. Wait so far – 25 minutes. This is a looong way off my top wait time which was – no surprise – back when I was unfortunate enough to be a Scottish Power customer.
But as I hang on it occurs to me that none
of what is said between the tiny whiny drive-you-mad ‘music’ that taunts over
the weary dreary minutes, is even approximate to the truth.
The brave new world of the telephone menu and bot
information is another upside down scenario made of extreme capitalism,
uncaring government and IT no one asked for. It is simply shitting on you and
laughing at the same time. Can an entity with no humanity laugh? I bet it can.
Take x3 prime examples that are standard in the
telephone waiting game we’re forced play now for almost any service -
Thanks
for waiting– your call is important to us –please continue to hold
In fact the system is thanking us for adding to the
hours we’ll never retrieve spent doing nothing but raising our blood pressure.
Last century I recall it was quite a thing for various numerate crazy types to calculate
figures such as – how long an average person spent asleep/eating/crying in
their car. Not so much these days. It might be dangerous. Most folk may not
want to know the proportion of their lives spent staring aimlessly into the
smartphone looking at crap they can’t afford or barely funny memes created by
other folk not having a life. Our call could not be less important to them and
of course – as regards their polite request to continue to hold – I mean – like
we have a choice.
You usually get to the point at 30 minutes where you
really, really want to hang up – but could the next second be the one where you
are put out of your misery? More importantly – if you hang up without your
issue sorted you know damned well you have to go through it all again.
Thank
you for continuing to hold an advisor will answer your call as soon as possible
They can’t believe you’re still on the line but nor
do they care – it’s no skin of their nose. If they cared they’d employ more
people and make sure they were properly trained. An advisor will answer your
call as soon as they’ve finished dealing with the last demented person who is
going off on one because they waited 45 minutes to get through – found they’d
pressed the wrong button on the menu and got cut off when the advisor pretended
to put them through to the correct department.
Don’t
forget there is lots of helpful information on our website, go to www.donotgiveafuck.co.uk
This is one of the maddest statements. We all know
there is a website. There is always a website and if we could have got the
information there rather than walk around listening to shite music while trying
to make the lunch or put the washing on or get on with work – we’d have used
it. We only abase ourselves to phone hell because we actually need to speak to
a real human in the hope they know something about the thing they are supposed
to know about.
In my case – when I got through (it was 53 minutes)
to HMRC they still ask the questions the auto voice asked you to answer earlier.
And then the security questions. All I wanted to do with HMRC was change my
address but I couldn’t answer the security questions related to my tax returns
3 years ago because I’m in temp accommodation and can’t find anything. So then
– and this was the biggest laugh – the ‘ADVISOR suggested I write. A letter.
The funny thing is that last year I wrote to HMRC as
I wanted to avoid dealing with the phone horror – and my April letter (recorded
delivery) was ignored as were two later letters. Eventually I got a threat of a
fine for none submission of tax information. When I rang I got through to a
lovely young woman who chirpily told me – yes – ALL my correspondence was there
– it just hadn’t been put on the system. Oh ha ha. I did not think.
I don’t want to overstate the case but everything IS
broken. And NO ONE CARES. And if you think that sounds a bit wound up and a bit
hysterical – it’s because I’ve just wasted more of my life waiting on the phone
for HMRC only to be told to write a letter even though they’ve acknowledged
that letters get ignored no matter how many you write…
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