MONDAY’S UNEMPLOYMENT LUNCH SPECIAL:
Waterlogged crescents with bloated blue cheese, horseradish flotsam, and sour cream pond scum.
Try not to throw up until after you’ve finished pressing every voice mail option and screaming obscenities at the cyborg operator.
I’m convinced that my Uncle Sam’s phone system was designed for the criminally insane or for flat-lined deadbeats still clinging to life support. Warning: batteries not included.
Yesterday my brain almost melted after spending close to an hour on the phone with the NYS Unemployment Office trying to speak with a live-bearing mammal or something with human DNA. Instead, I listened to a monotonous voice prompt that sent my head exploding like a rear-ended Ford Pinto.
The voice mail options were something like . . .
- If you’d like to continue in English, press 1.
- If you’d like to continue in Pig Latin, press 2.
- If you’d like to file for unemployment benefits, press 3.
- If you’d like to file your nails, press 4.
- If you’d like to hear our frequently asked questions, press 5.
- If you’d like to hear our frequently spewed flatulence, press 6.
- If you’d like to put a revolver to your head and blow your brains out, press 7.
I chose option 8, rip the phone from the wall and toss it down a sink hole.
What has your experience been in trying to reach a warm-bloodied creature at the Unemployment Office?