Last week, as I began my weekly calls to the short sale departments of a couple dozen banks, I believed I was fully armed. A stack of files with any and every possible document the negotiator might request. The same documents open in electronic form on the computer. The laptop was open and ready to make notes in the crazy shorthand you do when you dont want to miss a thing and you are SURE you will remember what “Eco no, 34 xts $544″ means later. A huge cup of green tea; both to refresh me and help me pretend I am in a place without stress.  The tether for my cell phone which would no doubt die while I sat on hold without it’s handy charger.

My previous call to a lender who shall for now remain nameless had started at 3:32, the day before. Someone, somewhere decided that the thing callers would want most is constant reassurance that the call was very important to them. A kindly woman assured me every 30 seconds that this was the case. As she would finish speaking, the line would click (which for the first 3 or 4 times made me think I was actually getting transferred) and a firm sounding gentleman would suggest I just leave a message by pressing “1″ and get a returned phone call within 5 business days. I decided to believe the woman, because I thought my call SHOULD be very important to them.

After 48 minutes, I finally heard a ring. At last, human contact ahead! I sat up straight and prepared to use friendly words, pushing the impatient thoughts to the land of far, far away. Accross the table my husband looked relieved as I finally turned off the monotonous speakerphone and held the phone to my ear. My heart sank as I realized it was yet another recording.

“Our offices are now closed. Our hours are Monday -Friday 8:30 am to 5:30 pm East coast time. Please call back during normal business hours.”

“NORMAL BUSINESS HOURS?”  I nearly shrieked into the phone. “Why don’t you add another velvet voiced recording to the dynamic duo and have him or her mention these NORMAL BUSINESS HOURS?”  My husband looked up from his computer, eyebrows raised, thinking this was how I had chosen to speak to the human I had thought was about to answer.   

They had been closed the whole time I had been on hold. Nothing frustrates me more than wasted time. All I had to show for most of an hour was a new high score on Bejeweled for Facebook.

So this time, I was ready. I even had work I could do WHILE sitting on hold. You can imagine my surprise when a live person answered without even sending me to a brief recording. I stammered for a moment.

“Is this Bank of America short sale department?” Oops. I wasnt going to say any names.

“Yes.” a gentleman assured me, sounding as if he might be about to hang up.

“You answered fast.” I hoped that came across as a  compliment.

“We’ve hired some new people, what can I do for you?” In less than 10 minutes he had not only answered my questions, but directed me to a couple other numbers to avoid the long hold times in the future.

My faith in humanity restored, I dialed the next bank.