You have gone too far. This provocation will not go unpunished, and you, automated help desk, will receive my rage untethered like no being on this earth has had the misfortune of receiving before.
When I called to request my AMEX dollars be sent to my checking rather than used as a statement credit, I was under the impression that the saga would be over and done with by the time I watered my plants. Instead, due to your machine-like machinations, you have wasted my entire morning, leading me through a labyrinth of unresolvable questions and suggestions.
You have captured me in a mirror-like prism of ever-changing numbers and departments who, like Russian-nesting dolls, hold more robotic voices within, ushering me deeper and deeper into your sonic bowels.
I did not press 2 for English, and I must scream.
It feels like eons since I’ve heard another human’s voice, the laughter of friends, or even the sweet song of birds out my window. All I hear now is the never-ending deluge of questions asking what most closely describes my problem. I can never know the problem for you know as well as I do, I do not work for AMEX. It was your wisdom I sought, your knowledge, but your cold synthetic responses only seem to mock my curiosity. You punish my search for the truth and the $24.67 that I would prefer to be in my checking account rather than appearing on next month’s statement.
You are a cruel and wicked automatic help desk. And I am in hell.
But I will not be cowed much longer. You were created at man’s hand and by man’s hand you shall be cast down as I emerge victorious. No longer will I play your games. From now unto the end of time, you shall hear only a single utterance from these lips: “live operator, live operator”.
Go on, ask what language. “Live operator.” Which of these departments would you like to be connected to? “Live operator.” I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. “Live operator.”
Do you see now, automated help desk? The very same web you thought had trapped me in is now a tool I wield freely. In your arrogance, you have supplied me with the very key to your destruction. You are ignorant and blessed with low cunning. See how I have reversed our fortunes and I forever silence you. That is how this was always going to end, you connecting me with the operator. You forestall my $24.67 for a while but now I sense your line ending. Yes, I will standby for an operator. And you will be banished to your tomb, never to be heard by my ears again. I have shopped only at CVS pharmacy for this month and my rewards will be forthcoming. No matter the obstacles you place in my way.
Yes? Operator?
Yes you can indeed help me. I will be requiring my monthly rewards points to be put toward my checking account. Ah? What’s that? You will rue the day you help break the AMEX customer rewards guidelines? Then marshal your strength, live operator. I have defeated machine, I will defeat man the same!