Today was phone call day. I had to call approximately 129 places to get some questions answered. Had to call the county animal control department (and no, not because the world’s worst dog bit someone, though I’m sure that will happen eventually) to ask where my dog’s new license was. Had to call the DMV to ask someone about a confusing vehicle registration form I got in the mail. (Confusing because it was from Ohio and we don’t live in Ohio anymore…and we have already titled our cars in our new state.)
Most calls went surprisingly smoothly. Actual people answered the calls, which was great. Then I called our bank. I had to talk to the automated man, who wanted me to chat with him before he would transfer me to a breathing representative. He told me to state my reason for calling. I said, “I have not received my 1099 tax form”. He replied, “you want to open a new account…is this correct?”. No this isn’t correct! What’s worse, it’s not even remotely close to what I want! I think I actually shouted, “No! Jesus Christ!” into the phone. (Sorry for taking the Lord’s name in vain, but I was really pissed off.)
The automated man took pity on me after my wildly inappropriate response and transferred me to a very helpful, very nice, very human woman. But after I finished the call, I started thinking. It may actually be brilliant what these large companies do with the automated receptionist. When a fake man says, “you want to open a new account”, I can picture a customer thinking, “what the hell? Sure. I’ve been on the phone this long, I’ll open another account if it gets me talking to a real person sooner”. Maybe “you want to open a new account” is the universal response to anything a customer says. And if just one person opens a new account in response to that prompt each day, that’s better than no one opening a new account that day, right?
So I started wondering…what if I used this tactic in my home? What if I heard what I wanted to hear and responded to my family member’s various requests with a request of my own? Would it make them forget what they had wanted and instead want to grant my wishes?
For example:
My husband says, “I need you to take the dog out and feed her this morning”. I respond, “you want to give me a shoulder rub…is this correct?”.
My daughter points to a book she wants me to read, and it happens to be a very long, very irritating book to read and I’m just not in the mood. I respond, “you want to go take a nap…is this correct?”.
My dog stands by the door, indicating she needs to go out. It’s cold and snowy and she’s already pooped and peed six times on this particular day and it’s only 10 am. (So, really, the only reason she wants to go out is to bark ferociously at the neighbors, which is just embarrassing.) I respond, “you want to go upstairs and sit quietly…is this correct?”.
A Jehovah’s Witness comes to the door and asks me if I want to be saved. I reply, “you want to shovel my driveway and then pick up all the dog poo you find…is this correct?”.
When I was working, this would have been a nice coping mechanism (though I doubt I ever would have been gutsy enough to try it). My boss says, “I need you to cover someone’s homeroom ” (and it was always the homeroom filled with the most poorly behaved kids). I reply, “you want to give me a raise…is this correct?”.
If I try this little mind game often enough, maybe one of the people above will be confused/taken aback/gracious enough to say, “what the hell? why not?”.
I may launch this great experiment tomorrow morning. I’ll let you know how it goes.
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