The Word Cloud

'Hi, I'm Lara,' she coos, all fluttering eyelids and big pearly whites rimmed with red.

(Hi Lara.  I like the sound of you.)

'What would you like to do today?' she asks.

'Change my address,' I chime.

'I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that.'

(That's ok, Lara.  I'll forgive you.)

'What would you like to do today?  Just say a few words, like "billing enquiry", and I'll be able to help you.'

'Change.  Address.'  My head rocks a little as I speak.  Isn't this fun?

'I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that.'  (Well you should have done - I said it clearly enough.  But ok, whatever.)  'Let's try something different.'  (I'm open to new experiences - what the hell...)  'Does your call relate to a billing enquiry?'

'No.'

'Would you like to report a fault?'

'No.'

'Would you like to sign up for any of our services?'

'No.'

'Are you calling about our 'Telestars' promotion?'

'No.'

'I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.  Does your call relate to a billing enquiry.'

(Alright Lara, you're really starting to piss me off here.)  'No.  I want to change my address.'

'Okay.  So you want to sign up for one of our services.  Great.  Are you calling about mobile pre-pay, mobile contract, internet, or...'

'I just want to change my address!'

'Thanks.  I'll transfer you to one of our customer services operators shortly.  Bye for now.'

(See you later Lara, you poisoned siren.)

The line rings.  I am advancing in the queue.  My call is very important to them.  If I want, I can go to their website instead.  But why would I do that when I've already been on this call five minutes?

'Hi, thanks for waiting.  How can I...'

The line goes dead.  I pull my phone away from my ear and look at it, expecting...what?  That it's turned into a fruit or something.  Nope.  It's still a phone.  But I'm no longer connected.  That bastard cut me off.  I redial.

'Hi!  I'm Lara.  What would you like to do today?'

I feel myself flushing.  Stay calm.  Stay calm.  But it's difficult.  Gone is the amiable automated flirting of five minutes ago; her with her long lashes and polished lips, me with my 'Hi Lara, thanks for asking.'  Now she mocks me.  Openly mocks.  She knows what I want to do today.  She knows because she heard me the first time.  And she knows that that bastard, whoever he was, cut me off too.

'What I want, Lara dear, is to notify you of a change of address.'

'Great.  So you'd like to pay a bill...'

'NO!'

'I'm sorry, I didn't quite...'

'Oh just fuck off.'

'I'm sorry, I didn't quite...'

'I said, will you please just...'

But then I think, you know what, this is silly.  Me and Lara, we're intelligent, rational human beings/automated voice systems.  We can work this out without resorting to petty insults and red-faced slanging matches.  Maybe she just can't understand me.  After all, I'm an Englishman in Australia - maybe it's the accent.  It never held Bond back when overseas but perhaps the times have changed.  Compromise.  That's what it's all about, isn't it?  A relationship can't function if we don't compromise.

'What would you like to do today?'

I put on my best Aussie drawl and go for it.  'G'day Lara.  I'd like to change my address.'

'Great.  You have an account query?'

(It'll do.)  'Yeah.'

'Okay.  You have five options.'  (Sigh.)  'Would you like to (a)...'

'I JUST WANT TO TALK TO A FUCKING HUMAN BEING!!!!'

'Transferring you now.'

I swell my chest victoriously and allow the flush of victory to linger as the pan pipes gnaw their way into my head.  It's a shame things didn't work out better between Lara and me, but I guess some things just weren't meant to be.'

'Hello and thanks for calling.'  I jump out of my chair and punch the air.  'How can I help you?'

'Thank you,' I gush.  'You don't know how grateful I am to be talking to a real person.  Without a shadow of a doubt, your company has the worst, THE WORST, automated telephone system in the world.  That girl...'

'Lara?'

(He seems to know her well!)  'Yes.  Lara.  She's the most incompetent computerised voice recognition machine I have ever come across.  So thank you.  Deeply.  From the bottom of my heart.'

'And how can I help you today?'

He sounds eastern European.  Another bonus.  Not quite brothers in arms, but close enough.  Foreigners together.  Looking out for each other.  You know how it is.

'I would like to change my address.'

'I'm sorry?'

'My address.  I want to change it.  I'm moving house and I want to give you my new address so that you can send the bills for my broadband to the correct address and I can pay them.'

'Address?'

'Precisely.'

'Go ahead please.'

'With what?  My new or old address?'

'New address.'

'Okay.  It's 70 Albermarle Road, Toorak, Melbourne 3142.'

'17 Halverbarle Road?'

'No.  70.  Seven.  Zero'

'70 Halverbarle Road, yes?'

'No, it's not Halverbarle.  It's Albermarle.  A.  L.  B...'

'V?'

'B.  For Beta.'

'Harlberbarle Road?'

'No!  I haven't even finished yet!!  A L B E R M...'

'M, or N?'

'M.  For mother.'

'Or Melbourne.  Ha ha.'

I sit in stoney silence and let him stew in the juices of his own crap joke.  If it was possible, I would reach down the phone and grab him by his neck and drag him all the way from wherever he is, to my new house, and shove his face up close to the street sign, then the house number, then finally my own puce, bulging face, ripe to explode.

'Yes,' I growl.  'Just like Melbourne.'

'And the rest?'

'A R L E.'

'Albermarle?  Is that right?'

It might be right, but the way he is saying it, it still sounds like Halberbarle.  'Can you spell it back to me?' I ask.  My right arm is beginning to ache from holding the phone for so long.

'Okay.  A L V...'

'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!'

'I'm only joking...'

'Well don't!  Don't joke.  This is important.  This is the most important thing you will do all day.  This simple task has assumed life-defining importance for me.  If you don't get this right - if I don't complete this quest - it could well be the end of me.  Do you understand that?  Do you comprehend the power you have right now.  I implore you, use it wisely.  Do the right thing.  Be a compassionate man.  Don't seccumb to Lara and her demons.  Stay on the side of good.  Go to heaven.  Please.  For God's sake man...'

The line goes dead and all of a sudden he is gone.  I tumble into the emptiness of the silence and can feel myself being sucked deeper and deeper when all of a sudden a recurring beep grabs hold of me, a life-saver on the bridge, a good samaritan on the road. 

'I'm sorry,' a voice sounds.  Who is this voice?  A man's voice.  It's not that man, the clown.  Is it God?  Could it be?  It seems as likely as anything else.  In the silence of the disconnect am I having my very own epiphany?  'But you do not have enough credit to complete this call.  Please recharge your account by visiting our website or at any one of the retail outlets which...'

I sink to my knees and drop the phone to the floor.  It bounces forlornly to the skirting board.  The battery cover has come loose and the bright logo of my doom peers gleefully out from inside.  'Call us back,' it says.  'Try it again.  Buy some more credit and give us a go.  You know you want to.  You know you need to.'

And that's when it hits me.  The stupid fucking logo is right, isn't it.  I do need to call them back.  Because I don't know if my address was changed at all.  Or whether all my mail from now on will go to 17 Halberbarle Street.  And I'll be penalised for it, won't I?  They'll charge me late payment fees and will cancel my contract.  They'll fuck up my credit rating and tamper with my financial status.  They'll ruin me.  That's what they'll do.  They'll ruin me for all I'm worth then they'll spit on my corpse and ask me what I would like to do today and whether I have a billing enquiry.

So I'll call them back.  Eventually.  But not just yet.  Because right now I need to go and buy some phone credit.  I gather my wallet and repair my phone and glimpse at the to-do list which sits on the table.  On it are the names of about twenty companies who I must phone today.  A tear springs at the corner of a hazy eye as I realise that Lara and her minions were only number one.