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The Wait: A Customer Service Hold-Time Horror Story

Customer ServiceThe other day, I called the Social Security office to ask one simple question. When could I expect to receive my 1099 form? After several rings, my call was answered by an interactive voice response system (IVR), commonly referred to by us laypeople as a recorded message. As soon as I heard it, I knew that getting a simple answer to a simple question might take a little time. But I had no idea that I would become a casualty of phone system hell. This is my record of the call.

IVR: Your wait period is approximately 50 minutes.

Me:  FIFTY MINUTES! I shouted in my mind. Are you kidding me? Thinking that perhaps I had misheard – surely the robot said 15 minutes, not 50 – I decided to wait. I looked at the clock. It was 8:55 a.m.

Holding the phone with my left hand, I leaned back in my chair, grabbed the TV remote with the free hand and began channel surfing.

After a few minutes, I started paying closer attention to the messages.

9:09 – IVR:  Thank you for holding. We appreciate your patience. We are assisting other people and will help you as soon as we can.

When my clock displayed 9:10, I put the phone on speaker, set it on my desk, began filing my nails and reminiscing about the days when customer service meant person-to-person, not person-to-machine. Usually, after the second ring, the third at most, a real person would answer the phone, especially in government offices. You remember those days, don’t you?

It’s frustrating enough to be put on hold for an extended period, but when an IVR holds you hostage, you feel helpless. You don’t dare hang up and call back because you will just have to repeat the process.

It used to be that a caller could press zero to bypass the gibberish and be immediately connected to a live person. But businesses got wise to that and eliminated the feature, leaving callers no choice but to hold, and wait, and hold, and wait.

Some companies will place callers in a phone queue, sort of a virtual waiting room, offering them the option of remaining on the phone while they wait for an answer or receiving a callback. The Social Security system did not give me that option. And so I waited.

In the interim, I entertained myself by playing Words with Friends. I checked my Facebook page. I even perused my emails. Finally, I began recording the messages that rotated every 60 seconds.

9:15 – IVR:  Thank you for holding. We appreciate your patience. We are assisting other people and will help you as soon as we possibly can.

ME:  We’ll see. Holding the phone with one hand, I impatiently began tapping my fingers on the desk with the other.

9:16 – IVR:  We apologize for this delay if you are calling for general information. If you are applying for retirement, disability or spousal benefits, you may want to visit us at www.social security.gov.

ME:  Idiots! If you answer the phone, I would tell you that I cannot log on to the www.stupidsite. If I could do you think I’d be wasting my time calling you?

9:17 – IVR:  We regret that you have waited so long.

ME:  The hell you do.

IVR:  We are doing our best to answer your call. Social Security provides benefits to more than 50 million. We are taking calls in the order in which they came.

ME:  You said that already. Uh huh. Sure. I was determined to out-wait them.

9:18 – IVR:  Thank you for holding.

ME:  Oh, good. They’re finally going to answer.

IVR:  We appreciate your patience.

ME:  What!

IVR:  We are assisting other people and will help you as soon as we possibly can.

ME:  You’ve got to be kidding me.

9:19 – IVR:  At the conclusion of your call we would like you to participate in a short survey and tell us about your experience.

ME:  Oh, yes. Don’t I want to do that!

IVR:  If you would like to participate in the survey, please stay on the line after the agent hangs up.

For the first time following the previous messages, I hear four fast beeps. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. That’s different, I think. Surely, a sign that someone is about to answer my call. I wait anxiously while watching the numbers on my digital clock flip over.

9:20 – IVR:  Thank you for waiting. Someone will assist you shortly. Please have handy your Social Security number and any recent mail we have sent you. Having this information will help us to serve you better.

ME:  Here we go. Finally!

9:21 – IVR:  We apologize for this delay if you are calling for general information. If you are applying for retirement, disability or spousal benefits, you may want to visit us at  www.socialsecurity.gov.

ME:  Are you kidding me?

9:22 – IVR:  We regret that you have waited so long. We are doing our best to answer your call. Social Security provides benefits to 50 million. We are taking calls in the order in which they came.

ME:  Sitting in stunned silence and disbelief that I’ve been holding on the line for nearly 30 minutes. A first. And – a last.

9:23 – IVR:  Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. (Then, there is a pause.)

ME:  What’s with the beeps? No message following? I know someone is going to pick-up now.  I’m preparing to stand up and do a happy dance. When I hear…

IVR:  Thank you for holding. We appreciate your patience. We are assisting other people and will help you as soon as we can.

ME:  Wearing a zombie-like expression.

9:24 – IVR:  At the conclusion of your call we would like you to participate in a short survey and tell us about your experience. If you would like to participate in the survey, please stay on the line after the agent hangs up.

ME:  Oooh, Buddy. You DO NOT want me to take the survey. Not now.

9:25 – IVR:  Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Thank you for waiting. Someone will assist you shortly. Please have handy your Social Security number and any recent mail we may have sent you. Having this information will help us to serve you better.

ME:   Now talking to the IVR. How many times are you all going to replay these */%#  messages? As much as I hate on-hold music, I’ll opt for that now.

9:26 – IVR:  Thank you for holding. We appreciate your patience. We are assisting other people and will help you as soon as we can.

 Those same messages recycled repeatedly until at 9:55, just as I was about to hang up, a real live human came on the line.

Human:  May I help you?

Me:    I took a deep breath and did not fly off the handle because I knew he might be expecting that and I didn’t want him to hang up on me. So, I said calmly said through gritted teeth, “I’m calling to inquire about my 1099 form.”

I had barely finished the sentence before Human in a robotic tone said, “The 1099 forms are being mailed from headquarters throughout the month of January. You should receive your 1099 before the end of the month. Is there anything else I can help with?”

Thank you. No. Click!

Had I not recorded the times and IVR messages, I would not have believed that I had held the phone for an hour for a conversation that lasted about 45 seconds. My first and last time doing a phone marathon.

At least the SS IVR does not add insult to the injury of phone hang-over customers by including “Your call is important to us.”

And no, I did not take the survey.

 

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Contemplating Death and Dreams

Doorway To Heaven Or HellSome people consider dreams as just a random string of thoughts, which we may not even remember upon awakening. And then there are those who believe in psychic dreams, where future events are revealed to us while we sleep. My mother had such a dream before her death. I had forgotten about it until recently when I began rereading some of my journal entries.

Mother’s doctor had her hospitalized on the day that she and the rest of her family learned she was terminal. Within weeks, unrelenting, she told her doctor, the hospital staff, her visitors, and anyone else who would listen that she wanted out of that hospital. She wanted to go home.

After my dad died in August 2006, mother, always the independent-minded woman, had continued to live sufficiently on her own in the house they had bought decades ago. Now, literally on her deathbed, and as she imaged still in control of her life, she made up her mind that she would not die in the hospital.

Since she kept insisting on being released, her doctor suggested that we look into in-home hospice care.That sounded practical until I discovered that her insurance, Blue Cross, would not pay for in-home hospice, which I was told would cost around $500 per day. Infeasible! Since only God knew whether mother would live for days, weeks, or months, we had no choice but to adhere to mother’s demands and bring her home. My sister and I would take turns staying with her. We would prepare and bring her food, administer her medication and assist with her personal needs.

During that stressful period, my sister and I put our lives on hold and took turns, staying a week at a time, at mother’s house. Since she was tethered to a breathing machine, mother’s mobility was limited, but you wouldn’t know it if you heard us constantly insisting that she stop climbing out of the rented hospital bed. Mother has always been strong-willed, and she was determined to do for herself for as long as she could. On the occasions when my sister and I were there together, we would sometimes look at each other, and shake our head from side-to-side silently deploring mother’s stubbornness. I don’t know how my sister spent the days during her watch, but I utilized much of my time journalizing.

In a study by University of Texas psychologist and researcher James Pennebaker, he writes that writing about stressful events helps us release the intensity of our feelings and come to terms with them. How could anyone knowing that their mother is dying comes to term with that? What I knew then and have always known is that writing about my feelings, writing about nearly anything – depending on the situation – makes a difficult period easier and a pleasant experience more joyful.

Since I am in the process of writing a book about her, I’ve been rereading my journal entries recorded in the weeks preceding and immediately following mother’s death which occurred on June 18, 2014. Although I know I wrote it back then, it isn’t any easier reading it now. In fact, sometimes I become emotional and have to make a serious effort to calm myself before I continue. Painful emotions never go away; they just lie dormant until resurrected.

In one journal entry, six months before mother died, I describe a lucid dream that mother told me she had about my dad. Rereading it got me to wondering about dreams and death. This is what I wrote:

Sunday, January 12, 2014 – 8:36 PM

Mother told me that she dreamed about dad for a second time since he died. She said that in the last dream, three nights ago, dad was all dressed up in a suit. “He was looking nice, really sharp.” She said. As he was walking toward her, he stretched out his hand and said, “Come with me.”  Mother said that although she knew she was asleep, she was consciously aware that dad was dead. And she also remembered that her mother used to tell her that if you dream of a dead person and the person tells you to come with them if you go, you too will die. Mother began backing away from dad until (in reality) she fell off of the bed and awoke on the floor.

“Did you hurt yourself?” I asked. “No,” she replied, “But I’m glad I woke up.”

My mother was always an intuitive person. Is it silly when I wonder if the breast cancer that had been in remission was rekindling during that dream? Was it a premonition or a coincidence that mother died six months after having that dream? I don’t believe in coincidences, but I will always wonder if mother was holding dad’s hand when she left us.

Life is filled with mysteries, some to never be solved. Dreams are one of those.

 

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About Your Opinion

what's your opinion retro speech balloonListen up, opinionated people. Don’t be afraid to voice your opinion. Some people hesitate to do that because they worry about what others may think or say about what they said. An opinion is just that – an opinion. And just like everybody has a brain, everyone has an opinion.

People often form opinions and judgments based on a variety of factors including personal life experiences. Sometimes just a gut feeling will persuade us to think one way or another. For instance, some people have the opinion that 45 is the great white hope. Others opine, based on what we’ve seen and heard, is that he is the devil’s disciple.

If you have an opinion and want to express it, then do it. Don’t feel intimidated by what “they” might say or think. People are going to say what they want to say about you whether you express your opinion or play deaf and dumb. Take that last sentence, for instance. The opinion of some people is that the phrase “deaf and dumb” should not be used because it could be considered offensive. Context people! Keep things in context, and you might avoid misconstruing what someone says. (Veering off-subject for a moment, I have to say that I agree with journalist Katy Tur whose opinion is that “This PC culture has run amok.)

If others have a difference of opinion about what you say, that’s okay. That’s their prerogative. Just like the adage “One man’s junk is another man’s treasure,” I say that “One person’s opinion may be another person’s nonsense, but it is still that person’s opinion.” You have a choice to consider an opinion that might differ from your own, or you can disregard it. Plain and simple.

If you are an opinionated person and other people are uncomfortable because you refuse to keep your opinion to yourself, that’s their problem. Don’t make it yours. Remember, you have as much right to your opinion as they do to theirs. If they think you are a loud-mouth because you make your thoughts known; you might think that they are wimps because they refuse to say what they are champing at the bit to say.

A strong opinion about something doesn’t always have to be made public. Sometimes a wise person will avoid expressing his or her opinion in order not to hurt someone’s feelings or be offensive. And because you may have a strong opinion it doesn’t mean that you can’t change your mind.

Years ago, I was an ardent proponent of the death penalty and didn’t mind discussing my position. My cousin, David, a vocal opponent, will tell you that he and I had great debates on that subject. All of the arguments against it did not change my mind. But in time, after considering numerous circumstances and studying the subject, I changed my opinion on capital punishment.

Be opinionated if you want to and be vocal. Opinions are not gospel and sometimes they are not fact-based. Nevertheless, it is wise to be adequately informed about what you speak instead of shooting blanks from the brain and out the mouth. And to buttress your position, keep in mind the words of Arnold H. Glasow, “The fewer the facts the stronger the opinion.”

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Funeral Etiquette 101

Coffin With Her Arms And Legs WalkingFor as long as I can remember, starting in my childhood, whenever a family friend or relative died my mom would send the family of the deceased a sympathy card. More often than not, it contained money. I never knew exactly how much she included with the card. I suspect it may have been a small amount, maybe 10 or 20 dollars. It might have been more; depending on what our family budget at the time would allow. Nonetheless, I recall that sometimes mom would write a brief message on a thoughtfully selected card and then set it aside without sealing it. When I would ask, “Aren’t you going to mail it?” she would usually say something like, “I can’t seal it yet. I’ve got to put some money in it.”

During my childhood, it was easy for me to understand why someone might include money with a birthday card. It’s a nice gift, especially for a youngster. Over the years, I received some such cards containing a few dollars from my parents, grandmother, a few favorite aunts, and uncles. I even recall occasionally getting a coin slot birthday card with dimes or other coins appropriately placed inside the card. (Are those still being manufactured?) Nevertheless, whenever I learned that someone we knew had died, my young mind went back to wondering why people include money with a sympathy card. And I would naively ask myself, “Is it to make the survivor feel better or the sender?”

When I became an adult, like numerous other benevolent deeds I learned from my mother; I followed the tradition of including money in a sympathy card for close friends and relatives. And although I have discovered that this is an ongoing custom observed by many people; the question of why do it has never left my mind.

As with other lessons learned while growing up, I came to understand that the planning, preparations, and costs for funeral services can be overwhelming; so including money with the sympathy card might help ease the financial burden on the bereaved, especially when there is no life insurance policy. But sometimes the devil’s advocate in me thinks that the practice is sacrilegious. And I realize that it sounds devilish to say what I am about to say (so I genuflect and cross myself before continuing), but — it’s like putting a value on the worth of the deceased.

The intent of some givers might be that their donation could help defray funeral expenses, buy flowers, or purchase food for the repass. I get it. As I said, I almost always include money with a condolence card out of habit, and each time I do it I ask myself the same question:  Why do we do this? This issue of whether it is proper to include money in a sympathy card has weighed on my mind for many years, so I decided to research the subject. What I discovered during my investigation and an unofficial survey, which included questioning some friends, is that as with most things, there are two schools of thought.

While many Protestants, Catholics and members of some other religions do it, the evidence is not conclusive. Opinions differ among people in various ethnic groups and communities.

Some people consider including money with a condolence card inappropriate or downright insulting. Instead, they donate to a charity in memory of the deceased, send flowers or simply send the family a card, sans a check or cash.

In a 1998 column in the Chicago Tribune, Ann Landers, (remember her) wrote that “Money or checks NEVER should be included in a card or letter of sympathy.”

To the contrary, in a 2007 NY Daily News Column, Harriette Cole, former creative director of Ebony magazine, lifestylist, author and branding coach of entertainers, entrepreneurs and business professionals wrote: “I think it’s perfectly fine to do so… If you are discreet.”

The jury is out on this one. As with every other issue, people have their own strong opinions. Some say it is inappropriate to send money. Others see nothing wrong with it. All-in-all, it is a personal decision. Whether or not to include a monetary gift with a sympathy card to help with funeral costs or simply as a kind gesture is up to the giver.

Trends change. People live and die. And life goes on.

 

 

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Examining the Good, Bad and Ugly Side of Who You Know

UntitledIt’s not what you know; it’s who you know. Before I was old enough to hold a job or understand the meaning of that statement, I heard it lobbed around often enough to be a team sport. And the ball remains in play.

A frustrated acquaintance recently said to me, “Someone can be as dumb as a doornail and get placed into a prominent position, or as smart as Einstein and be unemployed because he or she lacks the connections that Doornail has.”

I know numerous people who will attest to the fact that when it comes to employment, you don’t necessarily need skill, talent or brains to land a good job; not if you have connections. This is not to imply that education, abilities, and knowledge are unimportant. In fact, those qualities are essential for people who don’t “know someone.” But this post is not about folks who get what they want by going through the standard process. It’s about the advantage of knowing someone with pull, someone who can open doors for you; someone who can help you skip the usual process and get what you want.

If there is any place in the world where the maxim holds true, it’s in the Nation’s Capital where power-players rule. Take a walk along K Street, Pennsylvania Avenue, or any place in the city’s business district and the smell of nepotism and cronyism is stronger than rotting fish. But the who-you-know principle is not only applicable to powerbrokers and political bigwigs; it can work for anyone who knows the right people.

When I was a child, on a few occasions my dad took me to see the Washington Senator’s baseball team play at Griffith Stadium. Back then, it was easier for a poor black person to score big in the illegal numbers racket than to get tickets to a sporting event at the stadium. Nevertheless, dad occasionally got tickets to the ballgames from his brother, Al, who received them from his then boss, who owned a string of parking lots in the city. Point – dad knew someone who knew someone.

Then there was the time, as a young adult, when I was hired to work as a secretary/receptionist, in a small office with one other woman. I will call her Angela. Perhaps because we were very close in age after she hired me, Angela and I became fast friends, and I soon became her confidant. She told me that she used to be the secretary for the man who was president of the organization where we were employed. Let’s call him Mr. Doe. When the company, headquartered in another city, opened a branch office in DC, Mr. Doe placed Angela in the position of vice president and office manager of the new office.

During the first several months that I worked there, I watched Angela struggling (some would call it  ‘fronting’) during meetings and fretting afterward.  She would (figuratively) cry on my shoulder and saying how inept she felt when interacting with the more knowledgeable executives from other firms. She may have also cried on the shoulder of her former boss because eventually, Mr. Doe hired another person (another vice president who I will call Julie). I think Mr. Doe’s plan and that of other officials at headquarters was that Julie would serve as a buffer for Angela while she learned the specifics of the industry.

It soon became evident that Julie knew her job very well, too well. Clients began praising Julie to Angela, Mr. Doe and others at the firm. Unbeknownst to Julie, the more accolades she received the more insecure it made Angela feel.

Angela’s obvious envy of Julie led her to begin concocting lies that resulted in Julie’s firing within the year. This is not hearsay, I watched the drama unfold and to this day regret that I did not speak up for Julie for fear of losing my job. That’s water under the bridge now; but being older and wiser today, if I saw Julie or anyone else getting thrown under the bus, I would speak up on their behalf.

Angela was hired for a job for which she had no qualifications by someone who pulled strings to get her in that spot. Had she been required to follow procedure and apply for the VP position like other applicants, most likely her lack of credentials and experience would have prevented her from jumping directly from a secretarial position to VP.

Knowing the right people can not only give you access to jobs, high-demand tickets to concerts and sporting events, it may also get you access to covetable social functions. Keep in mind, if you know the right people, and you lack the chutzpa of the Salahis (The husband and wife gatecrashed a White House dinner in 2009, despite not being on the official guest list.), with the right connections, you may get to socialize with high profile personalities at an event to which you weren’t officially invited.

One day, a few years after I had left the job mentioned above, an associate gave me a ticket to a $500 a plate fundraiser luncheon that was taking place at one of DC’s finest hotels. You read it right — $500 a plate. My benefactor, a lawyer, and smart businesswoman was married to a prominent man in local government. While offering me the ticket, she told me that she would not be able to attend the luncheon because an important meeting had been scheduled after she purchased the ticket, and she needed to be at that meeting. When she sensed my hesitancy to accept the gift, she said, “It’s an excellent networking opportunity for an upward mobile young woman.” I accepted the ticket and attended the luncheon.

Sometimes, I think that God assigned the Guardian Angel of Opportunity to look after me because throughout my lifetime I’ve been fortunate to meet many people –prominent and ordinary — with connections who have helped me along the way.

In an excellent article published in Psychology Today, Dr. Fredric Neuman wrote, “I like to think that competence is the most important determinant of professional success.” I agree with Dr. Neuman, but knowing people or knowing people who know people is an asset too.

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