“What the fuck is going? Who is this Michelle and why is she telling me to call her knowing I can’t reach her. And why does nobody there know who she is? This is so fucked up.”
That’s only one of the many examples of visceral, raw frustration exhibited by a caller to a customer service line for a security system company as he’s given the run around. It’s a feeling we can all relate to, and who hasn’t wanted to let loose like this at the faceless sentinels of capitalism. As Gawker aptly points out:
What followed was the culmination not just of this customer’s individual frustration with the customer service system of this particular company, but the synergistic ire of every customer who has ever been shoved around by useless customer service since the first hold button was installed.
It’s like something out of Waiting For Godot re-written by Lewis Black. “Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It’s awful.”
“How many hours do you want me to stay on the phone?” the customer screams. Or, as Beckett might have put it:
“Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time! It’s abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we’ll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you? They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it’s night once more.”
“If you were sorry, you’d fucking do something,” the man shrieks. He’s shrieking for all of us. Into the void. Waiting for help from someone to arrive who doesn’t exist, or worse, does, and doesn’t care.