Friday Poem: I Will Not Cease From Mental Fight: VII - Sisyphus Redux

‘Your call is important to us, please hold.’
‘You are through to an automated response system. To help us -‘
Four, stabbing four, until my fingertip feels splintered, because I know the options by heart, and what I want is-
‘You selected ‘FOUR’ Is this correct? If yes, press two, to return to the menu press-‘
Two, of course I meant four, and now I mean two, for pity’s sake.
‘Thank you, you are being placed in a queue.’

‘You are ‘TWENTY-THIRD’ in the queue. Your call is important to us. However, if you would like us to call you back, please select ‘THREE’ now.
But not important enough to pay for sufficient people to be available on a Monday morning, or Saturday afternoon, or-
‘You are ‘NINETEENTH’ in the queue. Your call is important to us.’
‘You are ‘NINETEENTH’ in the queue. Your call is important to us.’
‘You are ‘NINETEENTH’ in the queue. Your call is important to us.’
TEN PERCENT CHARGE
Finding a charging cable is the new ‘just let me find a pen’ and, even though ten percent should last okay this call has already been twenty-minutes and why didn’t the damn thing charge overnight?
Because the other end wasn’t in the wall socket properly. The little lightning symbol confirming charging has commenced is strangely comforting.

‘You are ‘SEVENTEENTH’ in the queue. Your call is important to us.’
More comforting than the pace I’m advancing through this queue.
‘You are ‘EIGHTH’ in the queue. Your call is important to us.’
That sudden jump is not comforting. There could be a bunch of folks who’ve given up, or had queries easily solved. Or the system could have glitched and dumped a bunch of callers. Companies deny it happens but my cousin’s wife works IT for call centres and she says it definitely does.

‘You are ‘SIXTH’ in the queue. Your call is important to us.’
‘You are ‘SIXTH’ in the queue. Your call is important to us.’
‘You are ‘FIFTH’ in the queue. Your call is important to us.’
‘You are ‘FIFTH’ in the queue. Your call is important to us.’
Back into a holding pattern and forty-three minutes gone.
One place offered a call back service for long queues. I did it once, forgot, and went out. When they called back I was driving and the phone is set to divert to message when I do. I’ve never done it again.

‘You are ‘SECOND’ in the queue. Your call is important to us.’
‘Hello, you’re through to Michael. Do you have your account number?’
‘YES. It’s D-Delta, four, eight, eight, seven, two.’ Silence. ‘Hello?’
I look at my phone and there is no call connected. I think I may have pressed the disconnect button when I picked it up.

‘Your call is important to us, please hold.’

Poem by stuartcturnbull, picture from Gordon Johnson on Pixabay

This poem is one written over the summer. It is part of a suite of poems that considers UK history and life from roughly the end of the Second World War through to an unknown future. A brief account of Sisyphus.

The suite's title is from the opening line of the fourth stanza in William Blake's 1808 poem Jerusalem.