Many annoying things exist in our lives, but one thing that stands out is accessing data via computer, telephone, smart TV, and other modern devices. Recently, I needed to contact my pharmacy for some required medications. Here’s how that high-tech telephone conversation went.
Robot: “You have reached the pharmacy. Please remain on the line. The next available representative will help you.”
Ear-shattering music is played for five minutes – then:
Robot: “Please remain on the line. The next available representative will help you.”
More ear-shattering music.
Finally, a more intelligent robot comes on the line.
Robot: “Please state your name.”
Me: “Roberta Conner”
Robot: “Please state your medical record number.”
Me: “122345678.”
Robot: “I heard you say “12234567. Is that right?”
Me: “No! You forgot the 8.”
Robot: “I didn’t get that. Please repeat your medical record number.”
Me: “122345678.”
Robot: “I heard you say 122345678. Is that right?”
Me: “Yes.”
Robot: “Please state your date of birth. For instance, say July 24th, 1965.”
Me: “[You didn’t really think I would tell you that, did you?]”
Robot: “We are closed today due to the holiday. Goodbye!”
Me: AARGH!
The next day wasn’t a holiday, so I called again and went through the same song and dance. Only this time, Hubby is home and sitting nearby in the same office. After twenty minutes, the repetitive, discordant music gets to him, and he’s developing a twitch. Before long, he kicks me out, and I take my cell phone into the kitchen.
The same robotic messages and horrible music go on and on! Hubby comes into the kitchen later to get something from the refrigerator. His eyes are wild; he’s tearing his hair out [what little he has left], and he whispers loudly, “Roberta, please hang up!”
“No, I will not hang up. This is too important. I need my medicines!”
“You’re going to go crazy if you continue to hold!”
“I’m already crazy! What difference does it make?”
So, after 54 minutes, I finally got a live person on the line. She was very polite and helpful. When I finished, I asked if she could help Hubby order his meds. Yes, she can, so his refills were also ordered. Hubby at least had the gall – or grace – to thank me later for not giving up!
So now it’s that time of the year for that other annoyance most of us dread – TAX TIME. I use TurboTax and like it for the most part. It’s the account access process that’s annoying. Every time I sign on, I have to get a new secret code. The code is sent to me on my phone. After a few times, I finally learned to keep my phone near the computer rather than frantically running around the house looking for it.
By the time I found it the first time and figured out how to apply the code, it had expired. I had to go through the whole rigamarole of signing in once again. I now keep a pad of paper by the phone and the computer to ensure all is copacetic. Glancing at all my codes and passwords without my glasses, I see they are starting to look like hieroglyphics.
Now, I have to access my income sources. Each has its unique passwords and codes to retrieve the data. I can’t access all the stuff from my computer – I have to go to Hubby’s computer as some accounts were set up there. I don’t want to go through all the extra steps required when the company says it doesn’t recognize my computer.
You may ask why I don’t prepare the tax return in one sitting and endure just one sign-in episode with TurboTax. Because I have other things to do – like eat. And find documents I don’t readily have at hand. Plus, bodily functions I won’t go into – use your imagination!
Hubby and I are retired and don’t have much going on in our lives, but guess how many passwords we have? You won’t believe it. I checked. 122! – yes, 122 – and no, I haven’t been drinking. Hubby has a ten-page printed Virtual Identity document containing all our essential numbers. Of course, it needs to be updated occasionally as user IDs and passwords change. And many of the newer systems require two-step authentication – great – that’s really great!
Telephone robots have no human filter and will apparently accept anything you tell them. Years ago, I was on a lengthy phone call to retrieve important account information. The questions went on and on – what’s that number? – which account is that? Finally, after an hour, I was asked for my password, which I didn’t have handy. At my wit’s end, I said profanely, “%^&*.”
The robot said, “Your password is %^&*?”
“Yes, that’s correct,” I muttered. I’ve had it ever since!
A recent news story got my attention. A television reporter drove an electric vehicle from Chicago to New York on a test drive, documenting how many battery charges he needed along the way. He had many annoyances on the trip due to his unfamiliarity with the vehicle.
It took him 15 minutes to figure out how to start it. As it turns out, you insert a credit card-sized piece of plastic into the console. Making all the adjustments to accommodate a new driver took some doing as there are no knobs. Everything is touchscreen.
Then, there is the challenge of keeping the EV batteries charged. He was given a map detailing a route with sufficient charging stations. The problem arose when he decided to take a side trip. One time, he barely reached a charging station in time. He didn’t realize the vehicle lost some of its charge while parked outside his hotel overnight. What surprised me is that there’s a $20 fee at some of the rapid charging stations.
What if electric vehicles require two-step authorization to start them in the future? Can you imagine the “road rage” then?
I had a different type of annoyance just last week, and this one only applies to women! I was speaking to a woman on my cell phone – and a professional medical woman at that. As the call began, we heard a lot of static that prevented us from having a meaningful conversation. Assuming the problem was at my end rather than hers – this woman said, “Why don’t you see if your husband can fix the problem?” What? What am I, chopped liver? Is she projecting her own feminine helplessness onto me? I was surprised to hear such a chauvinistic comment from another woman!
I just got a new Apple iPad. I tried numerous times to set up the Touch ID security feature without success. Why? Because I no longer have fingerprints! Seriously, they are all worn off! Talk about working your fingers to the bone! To make me feel better, Hubby snidely remarked, “Well, without fingerprints, you won’t get arrested for your past crimes, Roberta!” Oh, brother! Ever the smart ***, he didn’t stop there. He researched it and found that losing one’s fingerprints is common among people as they age!
Then I found I couldn’t use my old iPad password to get into the new one. Why? Because my old password needed only four digits, and the new one requires six!
We’ve all heard those classic questions telephone robots ask when you call a business. Hubby recently had a pacemaker implanted. He had a telephone number to call if he had any questions about his new device.
He called the number. “Press 1 if you know the extension of your party. Press 2 if you are calling to report the death of one of our pacemaker users.” GOOD GRIEF!
Of course, not all annoyances are due to high-tech devices. I was at an optometrist recently. Twenty-five years ago, I had Radial Keratotomy to correct nearsightedness. That procedure is outdated – it’s all done with a laser today.
As the optometrist examined my eyes, he remarked offhandedly. “I don’t see many patients who had RK anymore. Most of them have passed away.” Peering at him, I realized he had no idea what he had just said.
After our frustrating and ongoing battle with computers – Hubby now wants the epitaph on his tombstone to say:
ACCESS DENIED
PASSWORD INCORRECT
I am glad he told me that since, as I recall, he wants to be cremated! I could put it on his urn, but it wouldn’t have the same effect!
Do you have any particular annoyances or pet peeves? Our readers would love to hear your thoughts.
7 Comments
Roberta, I lost my fingerprints long ago – you & I know why – too much scrubbing, cleaning, showering & using chemicals to do all that housework, etc.! I became a US citizen 25 years ago & they had the heck of a time getting fingerprints, they were quite perplexed. I thought I would be turned down!
Technology is getting crazy. Hubby, usually very patient, couldn’t get his printer to work, so instead of “turning off the computer & turning it on again” which is usually a quick fix, he uninstalled his printer & tried to re-install! Then it wouldn’t hook up to the WiFi at our new abode. I suggested he go to the “box” & press the reset button. It took him 1/2 a day to locate the stupid little thing. That was only 1 step in many because I got distracted with trying to log onto our daughter’s Walmart account so we could share. There went my 1/2 day. The daughter is out of town so I turned to her for help, but her phone needed recharging. Everything is computerized, right down to my hearing aids, light bulbs, fridges & stoves, banking, sprinkler system…..then our new “Ring” doorbell keeps driving us crazy because it rings when we open or close the front door! So one of us is always saying, “someone’s at the front door”, so lots of yelling back & forth & there’s nobody there! Oh, I can even talk to my car from practically anywhere & lock it or start it! I fear we are wasting the little bit of time we have left trying to keep up with these computerized systems.
But now you’ve given me a whole new set of passwords to use, & those I won’t forget! My hubby says I cuss like a sailor & he should know as he served in the US Navy!
My fingerprints are gone, too. I had to get fingerprinted for my last job and I had to go back to the county jail twice to get it redone. I don’t keep hammers or other destructive equipment near the computer or smartphone. My trouble is I’m like you, Roberta. I refuse to give in to the electronic ogre and drive myself nuts trying to beat it. When I recently updated our “final wishes” notebook, I bought a new password book to keep all the data that my poor sons will need someday. The little book was so clean and organized when I entered all the necessary data. The last time I looked at it there were sticky notes and cross-outs all over the place. My poor sons.
Love your Raves Roberta!!!! Miss seeing you two this winter. “Hi” to Ashley. Would love to see him sometime.
The robot said, “Your password is %^&*?”
Hilarious, Roberta! LOL!!!
Re fingers with no fingerprints: here’s a line from an old Hoyt Axton song: “Work your fingers to the bone, whaddaya get? Boney fingers!” Love that lyric!
I HATE my cell phone! It mostly stays on the kitchen counter instead of my pocket. How many apps do I have on the damn thing? Zero, nada, zip, NONE! (So call me a Luddite—I don’t care!)
That was a good one and I can so relate! My password list is only 5 pages…poor Jim!
When I die, I am expecting two-factor ID to prove it. Besides facial recognition, I better have fingerprints.
Good ones, Roberta!
Passwords? The struggle is real. Two-step authentication? Wrist-slitting time.
EV’s? Nope. My little old (premium) gas guzzler needs to suck it up, continue to survive, as long as I do.