Customer Service

[Martin Hash]

I bought the new QuickBooks accounting software. They have adopted the Microsoft policy of forcing the customer to call for a secret number. I naively supposed that I would enter my serial number on my touchtone phone then be told by a robotized voice the ten encrypted digits which I would then enter during the program's start-up sequence. Not a bad idea, I thought.

First, I was surprised it took so many rings to answer - must be a lot of new QuickBooks customers? Then the robotized voice I was expecting asked me to enter my telephone number. I don't just give away information about myself to robots so I entered a bogus number (my neighbor's going to hate me). Then a long, long pause... A minute, two minutes! Was some giant database looking up the phone number, I wondered?

Finally, a live man's voice asked, "Serial number?"

I told him.

"First name?"

Cautiously, I answered, "Tom."

"Address?"

I don't volunteer my address either. "I'd rather not divulge personal information," I said calmly. "I'd just like to get my number."

"You have to give us your address to get a number," he insisted.

I thought for a moment. "1000 Hell Ave." I said.

"Is that spelled with one 'l' or two?"

"Two."

I could hear suspicion in his voice when he asked, "City/State?"

"Outrageous, NY."

"This would be your real address, now wouldn't it?"

"Would I lie to you? … Could I please have my number?"

"Hold on a minute."

I was put on hold. Thirty seconds passed... A minute...

Abruptly he came back on the line. "You still there?"

"Ready and waiting."

"Let's try this again… Address!" he demanded.

"That was my address... O-U-T-R-A-G-E-O-U-S."

Angrily, he said, "I'm not playing with you."

Remaining civil, I responded, "Speaking as an attorney, I am not required to provide you personal information."

"Hold on!" he commanded again.

I waited another minute.

He returned. "You still there!"

"Yes." I continued to remain calm.

"What's your last name?"

"Tom."

"Tom Tom? You sure it isn't Donald Duck?"

"Yes. And it isn't Tom Tom either."

Finally, frustrated and resigned, he exclaimed, "Let's do this!"

"Go for it," I encouraged him.

He read off a string of ten digits, deliberating on each one.

"Let me read those back to you," I said professionally.

"Why?" he asked, and hung up.

I wonder if that guy still has a job because all those times I was on hold, the recorded message kept saying, "This call is being monitored for quality control."