I am a telephonophobe.

So I am afraid of phones. Particularly, of answering phones or making calls to people I don't know. I'm just socially awkward enough that this is regularly a rather painful experience. I stutter and stammer. I forget my own name and telephone number. I am regularly met with suspicion as the person on the other line attempts to figure out if I am either some sort of idiot or sometime pretending to be me. I would be happy to confirm for them that I am indeed a very specific kind of idiot, but they never ask. They only ask questions with increasingly obscure answers.

"What is your mother's maiden name?"
"What was your first pet?"
"Who do you know that has a third nipple?"

And so when most companies adopted an express system where you can punch a sequence of options and arrive at your goal without ever speaking to a human being, I was delighted. Ecstatic even. But my euphoria was short-lived. Something even worse has come to replace it. The pseudo-human triage system that regards you in its terribly insincere chirpy robotic voice and makes you speak out loud to a damn computer. Case in point, Dish Network.

I sit in my work building's terribly echoe-y atrium on a brief break trying to conduct a simple bit of business. I need my Dish Network account number. I dial the main number and wait.

Computer voice: "Thank you for choosing Dish Network, home of the super ultra mega basement dweller cable package. Tell me in a few words how I can help you today."

Cyndi looks around, speaks quietly into her phone. "Account number."

Computer voice: "Great. Member access, I can help you with that. If heard you right, say yes. If not, say no."

Cyndi: "No."

Computer voice: *Insincere laugh. "That's alright, my mistake. Tell me in a few words how I can help you today."

Cyndi, slightly louder this time: "Account number."

Computer voice: "Okay. Payments. If heard you right, say yes. If not, say no."

Cyndi: "No."

Computer voice: "I think I heard you say yes. If this is correct, just say yes. If not, say no."

Cyndi: "Er yes. I mean no. No."

Computer voice: "I'm afraid I didn't catch that. If I can help you with a payment today, say yes. If not, say no."

Cyndi: "No. No payment."

Computer voice: "Sorry about that. In a few words, tell me what I can help you with today."

Cyndi, louder and slower this time, noting the glances of the first floor receptionists with distress: "ACCOUNT NUMBER."

Computer voice: "Alright then. Account number. I can help you with that. If this is correct say..."

Cyndi: "Yes!"

Computer voice: "If this is correct please say yes, if not, say no."

Cyndi: "YES!" Cyndi notices a loud echo with chagrin, shrinks down on ugly print sofa.

Computer voice: "Great. I see that you're calling from a number on an existing account. I just need to verify your identity. Please tell me the address where you receive service."

Cyndi promptly forgets the first numbers of her address and frantically rifles through her purse, looking for a bit of mail she may use to tell her where she lives.

Computer voice: *Insincere laugh once more. "I guess you didn't hear me. I'd be happy to help you with your account number. I just need the address where you receive service."

Cyndi: "Um, uh..."

Computer voice: "I'm afraid I didn't recognize that address. Let's try this a different way. What is the last four digits of the primary account holder's social security number."

Cyndi: "xxxx."

Computer voice: "I thought I heard you say xxxx. If this is correct, please say yes. If not, please say no."

Cyndi: "Yes."

Computer voice: "I'm sorry, my mistake. Could you please repeat the last four digits of the primary account holder's social..."

Cyndi: "xxxx!"

Computer voice: "Your account number is: -blur of numbers spat out at five times the speed of human hearing.- "If you would like me to repeat this, please say yes. If not, please say no."

Cyndi: "Yes!"

Computer voice: "That number was - blur of numbers-l. Thank you for calling today. Is there anything else I can do to assist you?"

Cyndi: "Yeah, you can shove this system up your automated arse."

Computer voice: "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I didn't recognize..."

Cyndi: *click*

When it feels that good to hang up on a non-sentient system of voice prompts, you've got issues. I've got issues.

-Cyndi