I called the Social Security office some months ago to ask a simple question. After several rings, someone finally picked up; only it wasn’t someone; it was an IVR, an Interactive Voice Response system (IVR). Laypeople like me prefer to call it an automated answering system or recorded message. As soon as I heard the telephone menu begin, I knew that getting a quick answer to an easy question might take a while, but since I had some time on my hands, I decided to wait.
Research by Velaro and other companies that have studied customer hold times shows that 60% of patrons hang up after one minute. I know from experience that government agencies are notorious for long hold times, so I expected to be in the hold cue for several minutes. But, I didn’t expect to become a hostage in the IVR jail where the messages played intermittently and the same information looped repeatedly. To avoid repetition in this post, I’ve indicated (in parenthesis) the frequency with which some messages played. Let me take you back to that day.
Ring. Ring.
After the second ring, I hear a click and think, I can’t believe someone picked up immediately. But then I hear this.
IVR: “Your wait period is approximately 50 minutes.”
Me: FIFTY MINUTES! They’ve got to be kidding me. I think that perhaps I misheard, and tell myself the message said 15 minutes, not 50, so I waited. The time is 8:55 a.m.
Keeping the phone pressed to my ear, I lean back in my chair, grab the TV remote with my free hand and begin channel surfing. And then I hear.
IVR (9:09 a.m.): “Thank you for holding. We appreciate your patience. We are assisting other people and will help you as soon as we can.” (This message repeated at 9:15 and 9:22 a.m.)
At 9:10, I put the phone on speaker, set it on my desk, began filing my nails, and reflected on the days when customer service meant person-to-person, not person-to-computer. Usually, after the second ring, the third at most, a real person would answer the phone, sometimes even in government offices.
Everyone knows that holding the phone for an extended period is frustrating, but you don’t dare hang up and call back only to have to start again.
It used to be that a caller could press zero to bypass the gibberish and immediately be connected to a live person. But businesses eliminated the zero feature, leaving time-pressed callers no choice but to wait.
Some companies now place callers in a phone queue, sort of a virtual waiting room, and offer them the option of holding or receiving a callback. But unfortunately, the Social Security system did not offer that option. And so, instead of twiddling my thumbs, I busied myself playing online word games, scrolling my social media pages, and reading emails. Occasionally, I read the news tickers at the bottom of the muted TV screen.
IVR (9:16 a.m.): “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.” (This message repeated at 9:21 a.m.)
ME: Thinking. If someone in the freaking office would answer the phone, I will tell you that I tried unsuccessfully to log on to the website. Several times.
IVR (9:17 a.m.): “We regret that you have waited so long.”
ME: No, you don’t.
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: Sarcastically. In which they came. Where did they come from? And what’s my position in line now, number 49 million?
IVR (9:18 a.m.): “Thank you for holding. We appreciate your patience. We are assisting other people and will help you as soon as we possibly can.”
IVR (9:19 a.m.): “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.” (This message repeated at 9:24 a.m.)
ME: You’d better believe it. I’ve got plenty to say on your lame survey.
Following the 9:19 IVR message, I hear something different. Four fast beeps. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
ME: That beeping. It’s surely a sign that someone is about to pick up. So I wait, and wait, and watch the numbers on my digital clock flip over. And then a different message plays.
IVR (9:20 a.m.): “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. Pick up the phone. I perk up. But then.
At 9;22 a,m. the message that played at 9:17 repeats.
ME: I can’t believe I’ve been holding on for nearly 30 minutes. Surely, I’ve set a Guinness Book record. Joking aside, frustration sets in. This is the first and last time I’ll do this again. I tell myself.
IVR (9:23 a.m.): I hear the four beeps again, and then – a pause.
ME: I’m sure someone is going to pick up now. I’m preparing to stand up and do a happy dance. When, for the third time, 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.”
9:25 – 9:55 a.m. All of the IVR messages continue to play intermittently. And then, just as I am about to wave a white flag and hang up, a real live human voice says, “May I help you?”
I take a deep breath and slowly exhale. I refuse to fly off the handle because the SS employee might expect that, and I don’t want him to hang up on me. So I unclench my teeth, fake cheerfulness in my voice, and say …
Me: “Good Morning. I’m calling to inquire about my 1099 form.”
I barely finish the sentence before the human says in a robotic tone, “The 1099 forms are being mailed from headquarters throughout the month of January. You should receive yours before the end of the month. Is there anything else I can help with?”
ME: “Thank you. No.” I hang up and scream, “AHHHHH!”
Had I not recorded the times and automated messages, I would not have believed that I engaged in a one-hour hold-time marathon for a conversation that lasted about 20 seconds.
And for fear that Big Brother might snatch my SS check if I left some profane remarks, I did not take the survey.