HOW TO IMPROVE BEING ON-HOLD DURING A PHONE CALL

I had to make a phone call today. I grabbed my mobile phone and my notebook, shoved my notebook under my arm and swiped my tea mug from my desk to make it look like I was going to a meeting. Well, I was, sort of, just not anything to do with work.

I slipped inside the training room and flicked on the lights. Then I dialled the number on my phone and held it to my ear. "Thank you for calling... recorded for training purposes... to make a payment by debit or credit card, please press... Thank you. Please hold the line and an agent will be with you shortly."

Bla bla bla. I looked at the wall clock as the second hand ticked past the 7. I was suddenly pacing up and down, listening to the cheesiest hold music I think I've ever heard. You know, sometimes it's classical, Eine Kleine Nacht Musik or something, ringing tinnily in one ear. That's bearable. Sometimes it's that light jazz you get in lifts - vibes and bass with the drummer tickling a snare drum with his brushes. Occasionally it's the Bublé, but today it was a sort of never-ending compilation of tunes without a tune - it didn't make any sense, just looping round aimlessly, pianos and guitars, thumping and tinkling as though the musicians had just given up and were lazily cycling through the chords until someone wrote them a cheque.

Oh and then a key-change at exactly one minute in (I was fixated on the clock). It made me angry that it was so unimaginative, so dull and so boring that even the key changes were happening predictably on the minute, every minute. Stop... and here we go again. After four minutes, I was about ready to go on the rampage with a hi-hat, so I told myself off for having less than 300 seconds of patience, held it together, and promised myself I'd hang up after five. Tick, tick, tick...

"Hello you're through to Celia can I help you?" asked someone called Celia, sounding as bored as I was.

Now I don't know whether these companies do the awful music thing deliberately. I would have thought though, that something relaxing would have been much better if you're about to speak to someone who might have a complaint or an axe to grind with you. Playing this musack for five minutes down a phone line that the customer daren't hang up on seems rather like poking an angry bear with a stick.

I knew instantly that Celia wasn't in the mood to hear me complain about the hold music. In fact, she didn't seem to be in the mood to do anything other than be unamused, unfunny and unmoved by human compassion. I can't help thinking a little Mozart might have cheered her up a bit at least, if not me.

So, I've had an idea. Rather than hold-music, why don't these companies have on-hold-storytelling? I would much rather hear someone reading a random tale of joy and woe down the phone, plus it would definitely keep me interested. Additionally, it would only add to the illusion that I'm interacting directly with another human being - something these companies know is important to me - important enough to spend billions on their battery-farm call centres every year anyhow. It can't be difficult to come up with some stories that keep you on the line - look I made this nonsense up in no time at all. This'll do:

Click.

A long time ago there were a family of fruit flies who lived in the corner of a supermarket. One day the Littlest Fruit Fly got trapped in a yoghurt pot and had to be rescued by some of the others in a daring rescue mission. Grandpa Fruit Fly had said it was ridiculous to go buzzing down the dairy isle during the day-time as there was bound to be trouble with pensioners or those coloured-hair people who push giant trollies around. The Littlest Fruit Fly was desperate to explore and told Grandpa Fruit Fly to go back to sleep and dream about bananas - there was a whole world out there and he wasn't going to let it go by while he hung upside down in the corner. However, it wasn't long before Littlest Fruit Fly saw a bright blue light just over the delicatessen counter and felt like he had to go and check it out. As he flew towards the neon light, he felt better and better, as though nothing else in the world mattered, until suddenly, in a lightning bolt of panic, he felt his whole body spark with electricity and went flying through the air, wings and limbs jolting. The next thing Littlest Fruit Fly knew, he was trapped upside-down in a yoghurt p...

Good afternoon, can I take a reference number please?

Next time I'm in charge of the outsourced support centre of a multinational corporation I might just suggest it.