I am almost certain you have had your own bad experiences since automated machines are everywhere; especially the voice-activated ones. And besides, the menu options that come with them are enough to make any believer backslide. For, how else could anyone put up with what appears to be a deliberate attempt by some service providers to frustrate customers, especially when they are calling to disconnect, downgrade or complain about poor service?

Somehow, I cannot tolerate the never-ending menus and ridiculous questions. The only thing left for them to ask us to do is to: Press one, if your grandfather was born on a Monday but christened on Tuesday. Press four, if your great grandmother has “so-so gum” and needs a pair of dentures, or press zero, if you yu nah bleach wid blue soap”; perhaps Vybz Kartel can do a voice-over on that one.

Sometime ago, I wrote a piece about this same subject, but after the column ran, a rather haughty and naughty reader wrote an uncharitable note to me, cussing me out like never before. He chastised me mercilessly for “not keeping up to speed with modern technology” and for “building up resistance against progress”. But, as customary, I thanked him for his “scornful kindness” and encouraged him to help fight technological aversion by becoming more attuned to it himself.

Well, out of the blue, the little rascal wrote to me last week to complain about the difficulties he and his mother are experiencing using certain automated machines – the voice-activated ones. He wrote, “Dear Mr Burns, first I must apologise for the letter I wrote you a few years ago, when you shared your frustration with readers about automated machines. I was very young at the time and found it strange that you were not up to speed. Anyway, Sir, I am asking you to write another article on the subject because my mother and I are livid over a recent experience we had with an automated machine…” He went on and on about the money and time they lost and about the unpleasantness of the customer service encounter.

But isn’t it ironic, though, that he is now asking me to help him out? Well, that’s how it is sometimes; all I know is that “if you yell nicely in the woods the sound will come back”; and we cannot render evil for evil. That aside, I truly understand their plight because I have had a few bad experiences too and have had to hang up my phone many times out of frustration.

Contrary to the letter writer’s initial commentary, I do accept technological advancements. I am also fully cognisant of the reality that businesses have to look constantly for cheaper ways to deliver goods and services and where feasible, must opt to replace human beings with technology, but I still believe it has gone way too far.

It wasn’t so long ago that one could call a business place and talk to a “live-person”. Nowadays, telephonic apparatuses are programmed to anticipate and respond to almost any question callers have or could possibly think of – well so they think. But one of the irritating things about the switch from humans to automated machines is that, as good as the designs are, they have never managed to replicate the human thought process, and so they have been unsuccessful in providing complete responses and quality service, leaving tons of problems in its wake.

To this day, I wonder how some businesses manage to keep their customers; especially businesses that provide after-sales services such as repairs, parts and assembly services. Then, where they decide to limit automated services, they outsource the customer service functions globally and here is the rub. Undoubtedly, outsourcing can make good business sense and does benefit Jamaica; but it also can create complications – very costly ones too. And with due respect to other ethnicities and their lilts, sometimes one cannot understand the “live person” either. I guess this is a classic case where ”accent buck up pon accent” and that inevitably can cause serious accidents.

Just recently, I heard a Jamaican woman, on top of her voice, cussing and reeling off some choice fabrics that no one could buy downtown, much less wear, but she did it out of sheer dissatisfaction with an automated machine. On realising that the poor woman was almost brought to tears, I inquired, “What happen to you now, my dear?” She gazed up at me like a real “bull buck and duppy conqueror”, but could not conceal the desire for help. Courageously dodging the loose ends of the messy cloths she was throwing, I managed to calm her and then offered my assistance.

She asked, “Yuh a Jamaican, Sah?” I nodded in approval, as a broad smile replaced the disharmonious contours of annoyance on her face. “Well, Sah, from mawning mi a call di wata people dem, and every time the gentleman a seh, ‘I do not understand yuh request,’ I don’t know wah else fi do and mi waan wata enuh.”

Honestly, I was in for a good time, so I asked her to repeat exactly what she said to the automated machine. The lady cleared her throat as though she was about to sing and continued, “‘Well, the gentleman inna di machine ask me how much wata mi waan and mi say tree. Then ‘im seh dem nuh have dat available. I am tired of it ’cause is seven times mi call and is the same answer mi get. See if you can talk wid dem fi me nuh.” I ended up calling Deer Park Water for her, and told the automated machine I wanted three bottles of water and the deal was done. She was stunned at the ease with which I got through, and asked how I did it. I explained the difference between saying “tree” and “three” to an automated machine. She laughed and said, “Yuh know a true.”

Burnscg@aol.com