When I was a kid we had a dog named Peggy, I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about the one in the commercials. Why does it seem like every time I call about my account I get Peggy. I don’t like Peggy anymore. She sounded nice at first but as we talk I discover she doesn’t understand half of what I say and I can’t understand anything she says.
The other day I called and after being on the phone for five minutes pushing buttons, getting instructions in English, giving electronic Peggy my name rank and serial number, social security number, and my shoe size I finally “get” to talk to human Peggy. She then asks me for all the same information electronic Peggy asked for as well as what color underwear I’m wearing. That was odd but it was Peggy.
She then says, “Tell me your problem”. First of all Peggy, it’s not my problem it’s yours. I tell her I was approved for an extension and she says, “I’ll see if I can get you approved for an extension.” “Peggy! I already have an extension!” “Do you have the paper work?” “Yes, it’s in my hand.” At this point I’m wishing we both had I-phones or E-phones or whatever kind of phone it is where you can see each other. She then says, “What do the papers say?” “They say, I have an extension!” “Can I put you on hold for a minute or two? Thank you.” “Wait, Noooooooooooo!”
After listening to seven strange sounding instrumental Beatle’s songs she comes back and tells me, “I have turned in your request for an extension.” “I already have an extension!” By now my eyes are bulging from their sockets so maybe it’s better she can’t see me. She says, let me look. I thought she already did that while she was eating up my minutes. She says, “You have an extension, your next payment is due in July. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Is she kidding? I’m already down to a minute thirty eight free minutes left for the rest of the month. I don’t like you Peggy.
I don’t know where they get these “Peggys” from but one thing I do know is when I get off the phone my nerves are shot. I’m shaking like a leaf in a hurricane and I can’t speak. My wife walks in the room and I’m sitting in the corner just staring with my mouth open wide and drool pouring out. My wife is an intelligent woman. She knows the look. She says, “I see you’ve been talking to Peggy again.” She offers me a bottle and a binky but nothing works. Then my cell phone rings and she has to hold me down as I go into my best Tippy Hedrin in the Birds at the end of the movie when they take her to the car, “Noooo! Noooo!”
These people have been around for years and they will be as long as people owe money and find people to do collecting jobs. Several years ago (BP Before Peggy) I owed a bill for seventy five dollars or so the man said when he called. We argued back and forth and I finally asked his name. He said, “Jack Black”. I said, “Well I’m Clint Eastwood, go ahead make my day.” I asked to speak to his supervisor but he said Mr. Pitt wasn’t in. I hung up. That Mr. Black was a persistent fellow. He actually called my boss and argued with her for twenty minutes about whether I lived at her address or not.
Well, that’s all I have to say about that. In honor of the passing of Lt. Colombo, there is one more thing, I can’t stand when I answer my phone and electronic Peggy says, “Please hold for an important phone call.” Hey, you called me, don’t put me on hold and make me wait for you to scold me for not paying my bill on time. And one more thing, Peggy called me once and asked me to identify myself, so I said who are you, and she answered, “I can’t tell you that sir.” CLICK!