SAA Ep. #8: Customer Service Representatives are Standing By

I don't like making phone calls to people I don't know about "grown up stuff." I've heard people talk about their negative views of the future: "One day, everything a human can do will be done by a machine!" I don't think that's a plesant thing, either, but I must say that when it comes to telephones, I'd RATHER talk to a machine than to a human. I'd rather deal with all the "Enter your account #. You entered blahblahblah. Press one if this is correct. Press two if this is INcorrect" nonsense before talking to an actual human being. I'm not really sure why. I haven't recently had any huge unpleasantness with the person on the other end of the phone. They're usually very helpful and can solve my problem more quickly than the automated "press 1 if correct" silliness.

BUT...I just don't like talking to them. My social awkwardness/anxiety kicks in full gear just THINKING about calling an unknown person on the phone. I even have issues calling to order pizza. It's pretty much ridiculous, but I don't know how to make it stop.

A few weeks ago, I was trying to pay one of my bills online. It's one of those great places where you type in your username/password, you click two buttons, and you're done. No 3 gazbillion security questions. So I typed in my username. I typed in my password. It didn't accept my password. No big deal. I have about half a dozen passwords I use for different things. I typed in another password. Didn't take that either. Still no big deal. I tried a variation on another password. Didn't take that. The little voice in the back of my head that I really should listen to more often said, "Ruth, just click "I forgot my password" and let them email it to you." I said, "No little voice in the back of my head that I really should listen to more often, NO! I will not be defeated by my poor memorization skills! I will remember this password!" So I tried another password. No access. Again, the little voice in the back of my head that I really should listen to more often said, "Um, Ruth, I think you really should just ask them to send you your password." But no! It had become a game. I was competing against myself, trying to guess the password I had used. I kept typing passwords and variations of passwords.

And then it happened, as the little voice in the back of my head that I really should listen to more often had tried to warn me. Up pops the security screen. "You have exceeded the number of login attempts and your account has been frozen. Please call 1800-SERIOUSLYYOUCANTREMEMBERYOUROWNPASSWORDJERKFACE? in order to speak to one of our Customer Service Representatives."

I broke out in a cold sweat. Few things terrify me more than the words "Customer Service Representative." I turned off my computer and doused it in holy water. Ok, so I didn't. But only because it was my roommate's computer...and I didn't happen to have any holy water handy.

The little voice in the back of my head that I really should listen to more often said, "Ruth, you need to call so you can pay your bill." I knew the little voice in the back of my head that I really should listen to more often was absolutely right, but so great was my fear that I knew I would wait until the last possible moment. For the next few weeks, the reality of having to eventually call the Customer Service Representative hung over me like a death sentence. I know I should have just made the call and gotten it over with, but apparently I am a pansy.

My bill was due today. I had the morning off. I spent my time getting up, praying to be spared from the torture of having to make the phone call. I watched some tv, did some knitting. I even cleaned out the dishwasher to avoid making that call. But eventually the little voice in the back of my head that I really should listen to more often finally won out.

I dialed the number, and was relieved to hear an automatic voice. Maybe I was saved. Maybe I could just do this account unfreezing thing automatically. Automatic man listed off my options: "Press 1 if your service has been disconnected. Press 2 if you have inquiries about your bill or if you would like to make an automated payment. Press 3 if you enjoy long walks on the beach, pina coladas, and polka music." Automatic man needs to get out more. I pressed 2.

Automatic man continued. "Please enter your account number."

D'OH. I don't have my account number. Access to my account number is neatly frozen up in my frozen account. Then Automatic Man said: "Press 0 at any time to speak to one of our Customer Service Representatives."

I nearly hung up. Okay. So I did hang up. After all, I didn't NEED to pay that bill. What if they disconnected my service? I don't need all my utilities, do I?

Yeah.

I had to give myself a pep talk before I could call again. This time, I ignored Automatic Man's suggestion that I press "dos para espanol," and with fear and trembling, I pressed the dreaded 0 key.

After Automatic Man advised me that my call might be recorded for the purpose of giving all the employees of the company something to laugh at during their Christmas party, I was put through to a nice lady named Victoria. Now, my mom's name is Victoria. It's a nice name, but at the time, all I could think of was Twilight Victoria. She was going to come through the phone and drink my blood. I just knew it.

Instead, she asked me some security questions. I stuttered through them. I gave her the wrong phone number. I couldn't spell my own email address. She didn't seem fazed by this. Apparently I'm not the only socially awkward caller they get around there. She unfroze my account and sent me my shiny new password so I could continue using the happy Customer Service Representative free online bill payment. The whole process was over in about 2 minutes. She was very pleasant and helpful, and I had suffered weeks of anxiety for nothing. But the call wasn't quite over yet...

As the conversation ended, she said, "Thank you for calling."

"You too," I said cheerfully.

I think I heard her laugh at me right before I hung up the phone.

SAA Ep. #6: OFF DA HOOK!!!

Sometimes, one of the greatest adventures a socially awkward person can have is to vicariously experience someone else's socially awkward adventure. Today, this happened to me. It was wonderful.

I went to the library, which is usually a pretty low-key adventure. This has not always been the case. Depending on the size and unfamiliarity of the library, I can have TONS of socially awkward and even socially frightening experiences in a library. Those librarians are terrifying. My local library, however, is small and fairly non-scary. Plus, thanks to the wonders of technology, I can have a full library-going experience without ever having to speak to an actual human being. I can reserve the books I want online, then they give me an automated call to let me know the books are ready. I go in, pick them up, use self-check out...badda bing badda boom, I have my books without having to socially interact with anyone. Plus, I get to hear the uber non-soothing sounds of the book checking out machine "SCAN YOUR CARD" BEEP! "PLEASE WAIT" "SCAN FIRST BOOK" BEEP! "PLEASE WAIT" "SCAN NEXT BOOK OR PRESS FINISHED, IF DONE" BEEP "PLEASE WAIT" ahh. It's like a heavenly choir of obnoxious robotic music.

Anyway, today I went in and picked up some books that I'd reserved. I actually had to speak to the lady at the desk because I had a 20 cent fine because their computers said I had turned in a book two days late, when I had actually turned it in two days early. *Shrug* Whatev. After talking to the nice non-scary librarian lady, who didn't even ask me the obvious question "Why in the name of King Arthur are you checking out eight reference books about knights and chivalry?" I almost offered her an answer anyway, but I figured she didn't care. The answer, of course, to "Why in the name of King Arthur am I checking out eight reference books about knights and chivalry?" is "Because I am writing a book."

"Because I'm writing a book" is the answer to about 83.4% of the questions I get asked these days.

"Why are you making a list of potential names for horses?"
--Because I'm writing a book.
"Are you getting enough sleep? Why are you so cranky?"
--Because I'm writing a book.
"Why did you just maliciously giggle for no apparent reason?"
--Because I'm writing a book.
"What's your name?"
--Because I'm writing a book.

You get the idea.

Anyway, after checking out my books and proceeding to leave the library, I came across an interesting scene in the library foyer. All right, so "foyer" is a generous term in this case. My local library is small. Between the outer doors and the actual library is a really small area about ten feet long and four feet wide that contains some free reading material and such. As I walked through the door, I noticed it also contained a trash can and two elderly ladies who were leaning over said trash can, listening. I could hear what they heard. It was a high pitched BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.

One of the ladies looked at me seriously. "We think there may be a bomb in the trash can."

I leaned closer to the trash can. "It doesn't sound like a bomb," I said (because I'm obviously an expert on what bombs sound like). "It sounds like a telephone is off the hook."

The two ladies exchanged looks of utter horror. "Oh no!" one of the ladies said. "Someone has accidently thrown away their cellular phone!" Seriously, they both seemed more upset about the idea that someone had lost their phone than the idea of someone putting a bomb in the trashcan of a small local library.

I leaned closer to the trashcan. "I don't think the sound is coming from the trash can," I said. I looked up, and on the wall was a telephone. I walked up to the phone. With one finger, I pressed the phone back to the receiver, from which it had become slightly dislodged. The beeping abruptly stopped.

One of the ladies exclaimed to the other, "Well, I've never seen a telephone do that before, have you?"

"I've never even had a telephone," the other lady replied.

Yeah.

I took my books and returned to my car, grateful for the adventure I'd just had. It's not every day I get to rescue two old ladies from a bomb...or a telephone.

I'm Socially Awkward Girl: Saving the world, one socially awkward adventure at a time!