So, you grab your phone. You type “phone number for Stoke on Trent City Council” into Google with the grim determination of someone about to assemble flat-pack furniture. The search results hit you like a wall of officialdom. There are pages for “Waste Management,” pages for “Environmental Health,” and pages that seem to exist solely in a dimension of eternal waiting.
You click one. It says, “Please select your query from the drop-down menu.” You don’t have a drop-down query. Your query is, “I am a confused human being who just wants to speak to another human being.” It’s like the website is asking you to perform a magic trick before it will let you through the door.
The Hold Music Adventure
Eventually, you find the number. Maybe it was hidden under “Report a Concern About a Hedge.” You dial, and you’re immediately greeted by a robot lady. Her voice is terribly polite. She tells you your call is “important to them,” which you know is a lie told by machines everywhere. Then comes the music. It’s not quite a song; it’s a mid-90s smooth jazz loop that sounds like a keyboard falling asleep.
You’ve now joined the ranks of millions who have experienced this. You start making tea. You tidy a sock. You consider renaming your firstborn “Hold Music.” Ten minutes pass. Fifteen. You’re now emotionally invested in the saxophone player’s fake soul journey. It’s a weird, shared experience. We’ve all been there, holding that plastic rectangle to our ear, whispering “Pick up, pick up, pick up…”
Stoke on Trent City Council | Restore Information Management
