Press One for I Hate Automated Operators

You know how when you call a place now, you never, ever get a person? I’m in the rare and elusive crowd who finds that annoying. I know most people adore it.

What I hope is that when I’m having my…exchange with these automated systems that they are not, in fact, recording my responses, because it’s never pretty on my end. For example, my bank. Naturally, they never answer. And they also claim they can understand me if I speak “in just a few words” but



DO. Because my midwest accent is so unusual.

“I’m sorry,” the automated reply will say to me, 100% condescendingly. “I’m sorry; I didn’t get that.”

“Of course you didn’t, you automated piece of shit,” I’ll snap back.

“Are you calling about checking? Say yes or no.”


“I’m sorry; I didn’t get that. In a few words, describe why you’re calling.”

“I’M CALLING BECAUSE YOUR MOTHER’S A WHORE,” I’ll shriek at that point.

The point of my telling you this is that when I get mad at the automated thing, it scares the dog. I’m so busy being angry that I forget this every time, till I look over and he has his pleeze not to beet Edz look. Then I feel like crap. I am not zen enough for a dog this sensitive.

iz dellikit flower

Also, I was calling my bank because on Friday, I may have indulged in the demon rum. Not literally rum. I was being euphemistic. But one of you will ask, “What kind of rum?” and then I’ll have to be all, “No, see, I was just using a phrase to indicate…”

I got kind of tipsy.

IMG_5729.jpgI went to a barcade with about 20 coworkers. This is how we drove there. BAH.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t get that. Just say yes or no. Is June hilarious?”

A barcade is an arcade that serves drinks, which is as it should be. They should have done this over at Aladdin’s Castle at the mall in 1975, where I would need the step stool to get to my pinball game.


A little Miller Lite woulda gone a long way toward my victory over Fireball.

Screen Shot 2018-03-06 at 8.24.46 AM.pngAnyway, on Friday at the barcade, I don’t know if I hadn’t eaten enough or I drank too fast, but I sure was playing a mean pinball Friday. That deaf, drunk and blind kid. I remember going to the token machine and then dropping scads of tokens on people I knew. “HAVE SOME TOKENS!” I’d screech. I was making it rain, man.

I also told everyone to “PUT IT ON MY TAB!” perhaps a tad lustily.

I didn’t drive, which may have had something to do with my libationsnessness, which is a FINE word.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t get that.”

But I was sincerely baffled when I awoke the next morning with a terrible headache. Why so pained, I wondered. Then I reviewed evening. Counted drinks.

“In a few words, say why you’re calling.”

“You drank too much and that’s why the headache.”

“I’m sorry; I didn’t get that. I’m in denial.”

THE POINT, is that somehow–and can you believe this? Somehow, I lost my ATM card that night. My theory is they handed me back my card at the, oh, bar, where I never ever was except for those 16 times, and that I put my card in my leopard coat pocket (compliments on coat that night, from strangers: 2. Thank-yous in the form of GO HAVE A DRINK ON MY TAB: 2), because I was too busy of an executive to put it back all the way in my wallet, and given how often I FLUNG, FLINGDED, WHATEVER my coat on video games and backs of chairs and as a blanket while I made out with 25-year-old boys in the parking lot,

“I’m sorry; I didn’t get that. I’m in denial.”

who KNOWS where that card ended up.

Once I figured out it was gone, I sweatily looked at my bank stuff online, but no one has used the card, so then I called the bank to cancel it and had the exchange above, where I may have accused the automated teller’s mother of putting on her red light.

Don Jesus, June, just finish this story.

So, a new card is on its way, and I’ll have to memorize different numbers, which I guess is good for my brain, much like 19 whiskey sours was good for my brain on Friday.

Now for the next six months, every time I order something on Amazon,

(Oh, look, one of June’s hilarious Amazon links)

or something from Jimmy John’s

I’ll have to re-key a new card into the system, and does anyone understand what a burden this will be? And all because some MANIAC stole my card right out from under me while I was volunteering Friday night. You try to do good in this world.

I’d better go. My maturity seminar that I lead begins in 10.



Published by


At one point, I was sort of hot, in a "she's 27 and probably a 7" kind of a way. Now I'm old and have to develop a charming personality. Guess how that's going.

34 thoughts on “Press One for I Hate Automated Operators”

  1. Hilarious! Sorry about the card though.
    My stupid bank canceled mine last week after I hung up on an automated call TO ME, verifying personal information. Really, stupid bank? That seems totally legit.
    Anyway, so many recurring charges are tied to that card, none of which I have bothered to pay attention to. My daughter is all, “MOM…I’M GOING TO LOSE SPOTIFY PREMIUM.”
    Yeah, yeah…remind me tomorrow.


  2. I too swear loudly and colorfully at the automated systems. In fact, I don’t understand people who DON’T. Are there people out there with the patience and time to just muddle through it without getting angry?


  3. I hate those automated conversations. Half-ass dim-witted nonsense. I say, OH FOR FUCK SAKE, a lot. I am impressive on those calls. I don’t know why they can’t understand me with my dog barking, my husband yapping at me and the TV on in the background. Pure mystery.


  4. You are hilarious! I want to go to a barcade and I stink at games but it looks like fun! Glad no one used your ATM card.
    I totally lost it once and howled at the automated bitch. It hung up on me!
    I needed this today. My not so better half was in a foul mood and was barking orders at me at six AM. I was barely awake, didn’t sleep well, and he was all dramatic and nasty. Yes, he has cancer and feels terrible at times but guess who bares the brunt? Care giver spouses can be verbal punching bags. So Sophie just ate all of Scrappy’s mini biscuits off the floor. He spit them out. I am glad. He is back outside. The boys are dicks today. Lu resent. Thank you for the foray in to your amusing evening.


  5. I have heard my boss cursing loudly and slamming his phone repeatedly on his desk when dealing with automated systems. I sit and snicker at my desk and shake my head understandingly. I hate them too, but I try not to curse and slam my phone because I’m in a cubicle and everyone would hear me. I do a lot of very loud sighing though.


  6. This is my husband trying to ask Siri a question. She never understands him and he could type the damn question in faster than trying to ask her. Yet he refuses to do so until I yank the damn phone from his hands and do it myself. Because Siri is a useless bitch and doesn’t ever answer the question, she just gives you a website to click on.

    I vote for the book as well!


  7. I went to U2 concert, me and Bono are besties, and had my license in my back pocket. Some time during the night it slipped from my pocket. I am sure it was while I was feeding hungry children or digging a well or some such humanitarian endeavor and not when I was drunkenly hopping around singing at the top of my lungs and highly off key. Anyway a couple of days later I got a call from the Staples Center, not to be confuswd with the Staple Sisters, telling me they had found my license. Never figured out how they found me seeing as they called me at work. Guess Bono told them where to find me.


  8. Our Interactive Voice Response (IVR) unit does record everything. As does the call to talk to a human. All is recorded, every keystroke, every word. Sometimes for fun the managers listen to the recordings to see which one has the most “interesting” verbiage. There have been some doozies.


  9. This post was hilarious.

    Why is the automated voice always so condescending?

    Anytime you can describe your Friday night actions as being done “lustily” I am going to recommit to living vicariously through you.

    Also, Edz, what a case he is. Handsome, adorable, scared of his mom’s phone anger, yet eats puppies.


  10. Just say yes or no. Is June hilarious?
    Oh my god, yes!
    I’m sorry; I didn’t get that. Just say yes or no. Is June hilarious?
    Damn straight, she is.
    I’m sorry; I didn’t get that. Just say yes or no. Is June hilarious?
    Can’t you tell? I’ve been laughing for 5 minutes and laurieintexas spit out her coffee.
    I’m sorry; I didn’t get that. Just say yes or no. Is June hilarious?
    Cover your ears, Edz…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. There are some that shoot balls up into the upper faceplate. I also played one, a NASCAR game that blew wind in your face when your were doing well. BTW, pinball is making a comeback!


      1. One took a picture of me when I got the high score, only they didn’t warn me and I look precisely like if Grammy had taken a mug shot.



  11. As your father, I totally approve of your Friday fun. You’re just out of partying shape. Hell I’m there with you.

    DID YOU ACTUALLY PLAY “FIREBALL?” That’s a classic. Don’t envy the hangover, but would envy Fireball. BTW I have your ATM card.


    1. I did not. They didn’t have it. But they DID have one game (Star Trek? Aerosmith?) that shot multiple balls at you while you played. It was most excellent.


  12. Best four minutes I’ll have all day is reading this and laughing my arse off! Like Paula HB said up there, one for the book!! I’m still giggling.

    Also, Aladdin’s Castle, SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! Have not thought about that for decades!!!!! Odd, considering I would spend all my birthday money and loose change from waitressing there.

    Lovely post, Joob. Quite lovely post.

    ALADDIN’S CASTLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


  13. Hilarious post! I agree with Paula, this one is for the book. However, I feel your pain. I just had an incident this morning. I got a letter yesterday telling me I had to register in a system. I got to a certain point in the process and had to have help. I initially got a real person, but was transferred to another person, but I got a voice mail. I promptly hung up, called back to the real person and she transferred me to a person that actually answered their phone. She was great help. Come to find out I really didn’t need to register in this system! I usually keep pressing zero until I get a real person. I HATE THESE AUTOMATED SYSTEMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


  14. um, making out with a 25 y.o.? READING FOR COMPREHENSION.

    that was my take-away from this post. I just got a new work computer and have to re-enter all of my (unknown) passwords. I feelz ya pain.


    1. That’s when I repeatedly hit 0. Over and over again until they assume I am unable to understand the command and give me a real person.


  15. Hate those damn automated voices, they can never understand me either and I figured it was because I am a fast talker. I have slowed down through the years for others, mainly coworkers in the South but get me talking to my family and I am back to a mile a minute. My husband, who is not from the south, claims my brother and I can have an entire conversation in the fast-talk and he understands none.


  16. It’s wrong to laugh at someone else’s misfortune. I acknowledge that. But I did heartily laugh at yours. I don’t really even feel bad. “I’m calling because your mother’s a whore!” I do hope that part of your call “was recorded or monitored for customer service purposes.”


  17. I JUST had this conversation with my insurance company’s automated answering system. Many many swears later, a real person answered and proceeded to ask me the EXACT SAME MOTHER EFFING QUESTIONS I had just told that whore of a robot. So I very maturely refused to answer. I said “I already gave that information to your friend, the phone answering asshole”. She was stunned. And then said “no really. I need your ID number”. Nope. Not playing your game. I told her my name and made her look the rest of that shit up. VICTORY IS MINE. Or at least it was briefly mine, until she told me they hadn’t received my claim which I’m sure is just revenge on their part. In short – they hold all the tokens in the barcade of life.

    Love you June!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. THIS. I can handle the automated whatever and punch in the numbers, etc. but when the real person starts asking me the same questions, I lose it.

      Either use the automated system or just answer your damn phone.


  18. Dying over your description of the night of arcade debauchery. I have another friend named Karen (shocking, I know!) who did something very, very similar in a bar (no arcade) in Charlotte. Only instead of raging against the machine, she raged against the bar manager and got us kicked out.

    The end.


Comments are closed.