James Proclaims (4)

About to leave work at the end of a frankly mental day, my foot was half out of the door when I heard the phone ring in the office. As the last person in the building, I could have chosen to ignore the call and let the machine get it, but I decided to do the decent and honest thing and answer it. This meant a heroic and frankly herculean effort to run up a flight of stairs, but breathless, I got there in time.

“Good afternoon” I panted down the receiver only to greeted by a recorded message. Were this not irritating enough, the machine (which for my benefit seemed to be adopting the tone of a well spoken lady) informed me that it had tried to contact me multiple times about my mis-sold PPI and that I should now press five in order for the team to process my refund.

Given that anybody out of around ten people could have picked up that call, had they not all scarpered home before me, the machine did rather well to establish that it was me answering the phone at all, particularly as it didn’t bother to ask my name.

And if it tried to contact me all those times, why did it try my work number? Why not try me at home or on my mobile? Honestly if machines are that stupid I don’t think the dystopian futures of ‘The Terminator’ or ‘The Matrix’ are at all likely to happen anytime soon.

I didn’t press five. I don’t remember buying any Payment Protection Insurance. Actually, come to think of it, the machine must’ve thought I was someone else.

Maybe it thought I was Dave. I’ll ask him tomorrow

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