I’ve been receiving periodic automated phone calls from CVS pharmacy. They come on weekday mornings when I’m at work. The “PRIVATE” display on the caller ID piques my interest. Of course, it’s calls from PRIVATE phone numbers that should never be answered, but I’m a sucker for mystery.
“Hello?” I’ll venture. A beat of silence. Then, “Hello, this is a courtesy call from CVS pharmacy. Your photo order is ready to be picked up at the CVS pharmacy at 200 Massachusetts Avenue…” At that point I’ll hang up and think, “Gee, I hope that’s the last one of those.” Because I already picked up my photos nearly two months ago.
Yet the automated calls persisted, so I realized that they are like an urinary tract infection — not gonna go away on their own — and decided to call CVS and complain. I was reluctant to do this. I have no qualms contacting companies or institutions with whom I have an ongoing financial affiliation, but CVS? Those are the people who sell me cough drops and deodorant. It seemed awkward to advance our relationship into the realm of telephony customer service.
I dialed the CVS toll-free number while sitting at my desk, watching a gigantic MS Word document convert to PDF. After picking my way through a series of voice menus with increasing irrelevance to my ultimate objective (“To change your prescription pick-up time…” “To reorder a CVS Extra Care card…”), a kindly robot voice instructed me to hang on the line for the next available representative. And then the On Hold music began.
CVS’s On Hold music is the impetus for this post, because it is the most auditorily disagreeable On Hold music ever: A computerized succession of twangy chords, repeated over and over again with no variation or dynamics, just a constant droning refrain specifically engineered to induce caller abandonment. Anything with a voice, melody, cadence would have been an improvement. Gimme Kenny G, Chicago, or Alvin and the Chipmucks instead. Even muzak at least would have had retro appeal. I tried holding the phone away from my ear, but then a recorded voice would interrupt to reassure me of the importance of my call, and I’d hastily draw the phone to my ear — “Hello?”– only to be serenaded with more vile On Hold music.
After 10 minutes (about when I convinced myself that I could live with the periodic automated calls reminding me to pick up my photos), a customer service rep came on the line. She was helpful enough. She said that she would put my phone number on some internal “do not call” list and apologized for any inconvenience that this ordeal has caused me. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” she said.
“Actually, I just wanted to make a comment,” I said. “Your On Hold music? The music that played while I was waiting to talk to you? It’s, like, really bad,” I said. I tried to sound congenial, but given what I was saying, my words dripped with snark.
She gave a short laugh. “Oh yeah? I’ve actually never heard it, myself.”
“Well, trust me, it’s really annoying, and I think you should tell someone to change it,” I said.
“We understand that –”
“Okay, then, thanks a lot, bye!” I said, losing my nerve to continue being priggish to a poor customer service rep and hanging up. I never would have done that while talking to Bank of America or American Express, but CVS? Eh, who cares.
