A real, live human beats automation

It’s probably an age thing, but in my opinion and in that of many of my friends, automation equals frustration. No, not always, but could we just go back to hearing a live, breathing customer service human being on the phone?

Perhaps you can identify with my latest story. I was irked when I returned to my car after a luncheon at the Hyatt and saw a parking ticket flapping in the breeze on my windshield. There were five cars in the whole lot, and I got a ticket. Usually I remember to put money in the meter, but I didn’t that day.

I looked at the ticket and tried to read it. It was on receipt paper so part of it was smudged, and the side of it was cut off. I could, however, read the $15 fine amount.

Last time I got a parking ticket, I forgot to pay it, so it doubled in price. For the first time, I read every word on the ticket and figured out the parts that were cut off. I was impressed the city has made it so convenient to pay. You can mail in the fine, leave it in the drop box at City Hall, or drop it in the box at a Dillons store. And now, you can also go online and pay. You can call during business hours and talk to a person (after waiting several minutes) and pay, or – and this was great, I thought – you can now call the automated line 24/7.

It was 10:30 p.m. when I decided to pay up. First, I tried the online method. After finding the citation number on the ticket, I typed it in. Up popped big black letters: “Sorry, an error occurred while processing your request.”

Wait, now what? Who made the error? And I haven’t even made a request. I tried again. Same message.

All right, I decided to give the “automated attendant” a try and dialed the number. The very pleasant automated voice (Siri could learn from this “woman”) asked several questions. She wanted to know if my citation was blue, and whether it was issued by a sheriff’s patrolman. I punched all the buttons, answering all the questions. “Hey, this is a piece of cake,” I thought. She told me how much I owed. Fifteen dollars. Ugh. Beats a speeding ticket, I guess.

I punched in my credit card number and even remembered to hit the pound sign. Then the nice voice said, “Please enter your credit card number.” Hmmm. I just did that. Well, maybe she is double checking like they do for e-mails sometimes. She read the number back. Bingo! We had it right, and I was ready for the next step. “Please enter your two-digit expiration month and two-digit expiration year,” she instructed. I did that, plus the pound key. And apparently Ms. Nice Voice vapor locked at this point because she asked for the expiration date six times before I hit the pound key and re-entered the credit card number. I was hoping to get us back on track. All was well until we got to that expiration date, and she just kept asking for it.

I hung up and went to bed.

The next day, I decided maybe it was just a fluke. I’d try again. I mean, give up and they win. “Who wins?” my husband asked. The automated voices of the world, the computers, the Press One Now people!

The website once again said they were sorry, but an error had occurred.

Then I tried the automated phone line. By this time, I had the citation number memorized, and guess what? Ms. Nice Voice told me there was no such number on record. I said, “Oh yes there is, because you said so last night, you crazy woman.”

Still determined, I called the only other number on the ticket and was told by another automated voice – this time a man’s – to please hold or go online or call the automated line for no waiting. No way was I hanging up. I was going to talk to a person even if I had to listen to that dreadful on-hold music all day.

A few minutes later a person, not just a voice, came on the phone. I assured her I tried other methods to pay my parking ticket, but none of them worked. She thought maybe the problem was that the citation was not yet in the system. I heard the clicking of her keys. “Hmmmmm. It’s here,” she said. “So I can pay by telling you my information, right?” I asked in a too-forceful tone.

It took about 30 seconds to get the whole thing finished. And I didn’t have to punch any more buttons on my phone. Her name was Trenton, and when I thanked her and told her she did a great job, I could tell she was shocked to get a compliment. Maybe people forget they’re talking to a real person when they finally get a hold of one.

I spent an hour of my life I’ll never get back trying to get along with automation, but as usual it didn’t happen. I’m sticking to people. Helpful people who appreciate a compliment.

This story was originally published October 9, 2014 at 5:18 PM with the headline "A real, live human beats automation."