She Gets On My Nerves

Who in the world is the automated voice lady?

Why do I ask?  Because she gets on my last nerves -- I mean the black one.

Why is it that every time I call a company she answers the phone? 

Who the heck is she? 

Does she ever go home?

Does she have a husband -- a family?

She tells me to speak my response, but her automated technology doesn't understand a word I say.

"Ms. Automated Voice Lady, you're getting on my nerves,"  I scream.  "Get me a representative."

Finally, she responds, "I'm sorry -- I didn't understand your response.  Please call back at another time."

Click!  Silence!  Dial Tone.

I pause and give that I-know-you-didn't-just-hang-up-on-me look.

It should have put the fear of God in her, but she doesn't care.  She's automated.

I can't stand her.  She gets on my nerves.