Fresh Hell: the tyranny of the telephone

God I hate the phone. I just hate it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those technophobes who thinks mobiles should be banned and we should all go live in huts and communicate by smoke signal. I'm not one of those. But, whilst acknowledging its necessity and the miracle of modern technology allowing us to communicate any time any place, I still hate it.

It's the ringing, you see. The constant, infernal ringing. The peal of the ringing, jangling your nerves. It's the interruption, you see, it throws me off my course and distracts me from whatever other worthwhile pursuits I may or may not have been pursuing. How often can you say, hand on heart, that the telephone call is a welcome intrusion? Those are rare and precious moments indeed. More often than not, it will be bad news. It's the uncertainty, too; you just don't know who it will be on the other end of the line, and you've no control over what potentially devastating news they have to tell you.

I have come to even fear the ringing of the phone a little. I know it is ridiculous, but I can't help myself. I have this strange pavlovian respose to any kind of bell now - door bell, alarm clock bell, etc - it is all the same in my mind - but the phone alone has the most potential for catastrophe.

A call before 8am? It's hardly going to be a social call. Calls throughout the day whilst you are trying to work - they either distract you from your time-sensitive projects, or create more work. A call late in the evening? Same as getting a call before 8am. It's all the same recipe for stress.

So get caller display, I hear you say. Huh. Caller display - you would think this nifty little invention would be a boon for someone like me - but - what if the person calling is ex-directory...?

Is anything more ominous than the mysterious "number witheld" appearing on your mobile? Is it the bank? The credit card company? The personnel department? Or again, equally bad, a number you just don't know - who can it be? Yeah, I know, I could send 'em to voicemail, but then there's the nerve-wracking moment when you have to listen to the message - what will it entail?? Or, what if they don't leave a message and you just have to torture yourself all day, wondering what on earth they were calling you for.

Which also brings us to the secondary evils of the answer machine or voicemail. I don't have a problem with it myself - I can happily leave messages for others. BUT I always say why I am calling. I can't stand it when the message is along these lines: 'Hi, it's so-and-so, can you call when you get this message? thanks". ABOUT WHAT? Why can't they say why they are calling? If they know me at all, then they'd know I will automatically assume BAD news - then I don't really want to call back. Sheesh.

And whilst we're on this thorny issue of unwanted calls, let's devote a little time to the evils of the telesales call. It's 8pm. You're relaxing on the sofa, sipping a glass of wine, closely following the personal lives of the principal surgeons on Holby City, and the phone goes. You can't ignore it - it might be important. You mute the television, pick up the phone:
You: Hello?
Caller: Hello, may i speak with Miss (then they pronounce your surname incorrectly)
You: Who is it?
Caller:My name is blah-blah and I'm calling from the Blah-Blah credit card company to interrupt your evening and try to sell you some insurance you don't need, and yes the line is very bad and you can't quite make out what I am saying because I am in fact, calling from an out-sourced call centre based in India, etc., etc.

Of course, it doesn't go quite like that. I'm wise to the telesales call these days. I stop them at the 'My name is' part. I know it isn't their fault. They just work for the evil corporation. But I'm supposed to be ex-directory for Pete's sake! There's no escape.

So, why don't I just ignore the damn thing? Would that I could. But part of the whole pavlovian nightmare attachment to this unholy device is that I simply don't have the nerve to ignore a ringing phone. I simply have to know who is on the other end of the line. I hate the phone but I'm a fool for the phone. It's less of a love-hate relationship, more of a hate-hate, but what can you do, eh?