Back when I started waiting on hold to speak to a person from the government in 2014 there used to be short breaks in the hold music when you first start holding you still have hope. So you believe that each and every short break is the magical voice you were waiting for at the other end of the line.
After the first half-hour, you start getting wiser though! You start to understand they are simply baiting the hook and that the pause is for a message! It was two thousand and sixteen when for the first time they had a system's failure. After waiting for two years on hold you learn to go about your life in a normal manner, some get the blue tooth and t.v.'s others Try and find the secret locations where they can go to shorten their wait. You can buy other people's phones, people who have been holding for seven years make the most money, it had become a profession of sort's in a world where everyone waits in line to speak with the magical person who can solve all of your lives problems.
That voice on the other end of the line.
After the first outage, they added a suicide hotline, there were twelve million deaths after the first outage, people who had spent most of their lives waiting had suddenly lost their place in line and all hope could be seen to drain from their faces.
We had learned to be patient you see, when life is counted by the minutes you are on hold you live life a little differently. The newbie's usually around eighteen years of age were the ones who had the toughest time, the first night is always the worst! You wake up from every single break of the hold music, every message, you grow so accustomed to the hold messages that any interruption leads to depression. Some had even been known to have diarrhea and other physical alignments. The most common of which seemed to be whiplash, in the olden days peoples necks had become crooked and had even become a part of modern fashion for a time, they were considered to be fashionable and soon some parents even placed braces around their children necks for them to fit in.
The invention of the mobile phone and Bluetooth had been the greatest advent of human history, since sliced bread! So upright necks came back into fashion overnight! No one could ever have guessed.
I had just turned eighteen years old and as was mandatory for all people who wish to participate in a civilized society I got my cell phone, a blue tooth headset and called the phone number engraved in us all since we had been children to begin my holding period.
First I waited for the click on the other end of the line to go off every minute, every second, I was so incredibly excited! This finally meant I was a man, a sort of coming of age as it were. Of all the children I knew there was only one who's granddad had already been on hold for him and so he had a head start. His name was Drew and he was somewhat scraggly of nine and ten years. He was fortunate for he only had to hold for one year since his grandfather saw clear to dial the number ahead, the misfortune on his family that struck the February of twenty sixteen had been one of immeasurable cruelty from the very fates themselves.
My first year queuing was filled with rumors of secret locations and planes and buses, trains and cars, secret underground facilities which held the offices of these people we were on hold for. The excitement was palpable in all aspects, though the rumors always turned out to be false, there was a class of people who chased after these rumors with everything they owned, could steal, or borrow. They were called Rumor hunters, as though a modern-day treasure hunter willing to do anything to finally achieve their prize. For if anyone ever actually manages to find the offices of the state, they did not have to hold.
the average wait time for my grandfather was twenty-seven hours! A mere twenty-seven hours! He would tell us the stories of how in his day they thought that was a lot, but my father held for a full two years, and my "expected wait time" was over seven years. My grandfather would tell of the wired handsets they used in those days, having rotary dials and special pieces of plastic which allowed them to have hands free without bending their necks. Though only the richest of the rich could afford such things. Imagine tiny pieces of plastic going for thousands upon thousands of dollars, makeshift ones would spring up here and there at more reasonable prices but you ran the chances of losing the call or dropping the handset.
Rumor hunters were often the most idolized of all fellows, though on the rare occasion there were women which tried to find the legendary office of the State. All in all, though the fairer sex was often too practical to waste time on such false pursuits. A young lady growing up in our time often wished to marry into a rich family simply to have them purchase her a phone that had been holding for six or seven years already. It was funny but it became a sort of currency you see, for a phone holding for three years you could purchase a Chevy, four years? A BMW. So even long after folks had finished holding and settled their affairs with the state they would call back and start holding simply for barter.
In our home town, there was one such fellow, Wireless Rick they called him.
(Sarcasm meant of a different world and an imaginary government. Meant to be funny.)
After the first half-hour, you start getting wiser though! You start to understand they are simply baiting the hook and that the pause is for a message! It was two thousand and sixteen when for the first time they had a system's failure. After waiting for two years on hold you learn to go about your life in a normal manner, some get the blue tooth and t.v.'s others Try and find the secret locations where they can go to shorten their wait. You can buy other people's phones, people who have been holding for seven years make the most money, it had become a profession of sort's in a world where everyone waits in line to speak with the magical person who can solve all of your lives problems.
That voice on the other end of the line.
After the first outage, they added a suicide hotline, there were twelve million deaths after the first outage, people who had spent most of their lives waiting had suddenly lost their place in line and all hope could be seen to drain from their faces.
We had learned to be patient you see, when life is counted by the minutes you are on hold you live life a little differently. The newbie's usually around eighteen years of age were the ones who had the toughest time, the first night is always the worst! You wake up from every single break of the hold music, every message, you grow so accustomed to the hold messages that any interruption leads to depression. Some had even been known to have diarrhea and other physical alignments. The most common of which seemed to be whiplash, in the olden days peoples necks had become crooked and had even become a part of modern fashion for a time, they were considered to be fashionable and soon some parents even placed braces around their children necks for them to fit in.
The invention of the mobile phone and Bluetooth had been the greatest advent of human history, since sliced bread! So upright necks came back into fashion overnight! No one could ever have guessed.
I had just turned eighteen years old and as was mandatory for all people who wish to participate in a civilized society I got my cell phone, a blue tooth headset and called the phone number engraved in us all since we had been children to begin my holding period.
First I waited for the click on the other end of the line to go off every minute, every second, I was so incredibly excited! This finally meant I was a man, a sort of coming of age as it were. Of all the children I knew there was only one who's granddad had already been on hold for him and so he had a head start. His name was Drew and he was somewhat scraggly of nine and ten years. He was fortunate for he only had to hold for one year since his grandfather saw clear to dial the number ahead, the misfortune on his family that struck the February of twenty sixteen had been one of immeasurable cruelty from the very fates themselves.
My first year queuing was filled with rumors of secret locations and planes and buses, trains and cars, secret underground facilities which held the offices of these people we were on hold for. The excitement was palpable in all aspects, though the rumors always turned out to be false, there was a class of people who chased after these rumors with everything they owned, could steal, or borrow. They were called Rumor hunters, as though a modern-day treasure hunter willing to do anything to finally achieve their prize. For if anyone ever actually manages to find the offices of the state, they did not have to hold.
the average wait time for my grandfather was twenty-seven hours! A mere twenty-seven hours! He would tell us the stories of how in his day they thought that was a lot, but my father held for a full two years, and my "expected wait time" was over seven years. My grandfather would tell of the wired handsets they used in those days, having rotary dials and special pieces of plastic which allowed them to have hands free without bending their necks. Though only the richest of the rich could afford such things. Imagine tiny pieces of plastic going for thousands upon thousands of dollars, makeshift ones would spring up here and there at more reasonable prices but you ran the chances of losing the call or dropping the handset.
Rumor hunters were often the most idolized of all fellows, though on the rare occasion there were women which tried to find the legendary office of the State. All in all, though the fairer sex was often too practical to waste time on such false pursuits. A young lady growing up in our time often wished to marry into a rich family simply to have them purchase her a phone that had been holding for six or seven years already. It was funny but it became a sort of currency you see, for a phone holding for three years you could purchase a Chevy, four years? A BMW. So even long after folks had finished holding and settled their affairs with the state they would call back and start holding simply for barter.
In our home town, there was one such fellow, Wireless Rick they called him.
(Sarcasm meant of a different world and an imaginary government. Meant to be funny.)
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