‘Hello from the other side
I must’ve called a thousand times’
Sarcasm doesn’t help. You just don’t get it.
Anger doesn’t help coz you just clear your throat and ask me the same question for the 50th time.
Your responses start from a recorded message, to a very long wait listening to an annoying musical interlude on loop, to a forced update of all that you offer. What I require is a quick response and instead I have to deal with a drawl asking how you may help me.
The rapid-fire questions begin at a speed that defies any manner of comprehension. You want my date-of-birth, my address, my pan card number, my phone number, my this number and my that number by which time I have emptied out my wallet desperately trying to feed you all the information you need. All this while my voice rises in decibel levels and I fear I may suffer a stroke. You ask me to be patient but its 20 mins since I dialled the number and I haven’t even got to the point where my complaint can be registered. The actual navigation of comprehension, language and articulation has challenged every last cell in my being.
22.5 mins after dialling your number … my nerves are shot. My eyes are glazed. My hands are shaking. My phone is lying shattered on the living room floor and there is an ungainly dent in the wall.
The call dropped just as you asked me to share the nature of my complaint. It DROPPED!!
I can’t do this again.
I give up.
A victim of the .