A/N: This is a CSI story, I suppose, but not really. After spending five hours on the phone with various customer care centers yesterday, I feel the need to vent. A lot. Like, repeatedly. This story is pretty much how my conversation with the United Airlines phone tree went last night, minus the Greg, Sara, and Grissom parts!
---------------
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of CSI or its characters. That honor goes to the good folks over at CBS. Oh, and I have nothing against United Airlines; their phone tree is a tad bit annoying, but that's okay. As well, the poem is Shakespeare's 18th Sonnet.
Summary: How much patience does Gilbert Grissom really have? One customer care center takes him to the brink.
---------------
It was December 2nd, and Grissom had to change his airline reservation. He wanted to fly into San Francisco several days earlier than he had originally planned to do so, which meant that he unfortunately had to use the United Airlines' customer service phone line.
"Alright, let's begin," the United Airlines' male 'smart computer' cheerfully told Grissom. "Please speak your reservation number now, if you know it."
Grissom glanced down at his e-ticket, scanning the document for the requested reservation number. "DRZ345X," he recited into the phone, leaning back in his chair. In less than one short month, I'll be enjoying the holidays with Sara.
"Thank you. I understood that to be DRS345Z. Is that correct?" the computer asked Grissom in a rather friendly tone.
"No," Grissom quickly replied, frowning in confusion.
"Please speak your reservation number now, if you know it."
"DRZ345X," Grissom tried again. Sara, sunshine, a forensics conference. This will be one of the best Christmases ever.
"I understood that to be BRZ349X. Is that correct?"
"No," Grissom repeated, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves.
"Don't worry. We can find the information another way," the computer voice kindly told him. "Please state your departure date."
"December 22nd, 2007."
"I understood that to be December 22nd, 2007. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"Thank you. Please state your departure city."
"Las Vegas, Nevada."
"Thank you. I understood that to be Las Vegas, Nevada. Is that correct?"
"Yes, it is." Grissom replied.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," the voice informed Grissom.
"Yes," Grissom emphatically repeated, attempting to enunciate his answer as much as humanly possible. Sara, I love you, and I miss you. In twenty days, we'll be together again.
"Thank you. Please state your destination city."
"San Francisco," Grissom immediately replied, grabbing a pencil from his desk, and lightly tapping it on the desk top.
"Thank you. I understood that to be San Francisco. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"Thank you. Now, please state the first letter of the passenger's last name," the computer ordered Grissom.
"G."
"I understood that to be B. Is that correct?"
"No, G."
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Please state the first letter of the passenger's last name," the computer once again ordered him.
"G," Grissom stated, as he began tapping the pencil against his desk a little bit more loudly. Twenty days. That's 480 hours, or 11,520 minutes, or—
"I understood that to be C. Is that correct?"
C? C? G! "NO," Grissom replied, hoping that a louder voice would be more easily understood by the computer.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Please state the first letter of the passenger's last name."
"G!" 11,520 minutes, or 691,200 seconds. We'll be together again before you even know it.
"Thank you. I understood that to be G. Is that correct?" the computer cheerfully asked Grissom.
"Yes!" Grissom tried his hardest to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Dear God, please give me patience. Seriously, please give me patience. And then Grissom did the only thing that he could think of to do: he began reciting Shakespeare in his mind. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
"Thank you. Please state the full name of the passenger."
"Grissom," Grissom took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. Thou art more lively and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
"Hey, Grissom?" Greg suddenly walked into his boss's office, interrupting Grissom's train of thought.
"Not now, Greg," Grissom managed to get out, watching as Greg turned to leave.
Moments later, the computer voice continued asking its endless questions. "Thank you. I understood that to be Grissom. Is that correct?"
"Yes," Grissom calmly uttered into the phone, frowning, as Greg turned around again.
"Yes?" Greg smiled, bounding further into the office, and holding a file out to Grissom. "Tox results are back, and—"
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," the computer voice interrupted Greg.
"No, not now, Greg," Grissom whispered, pointing to the phone.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," the computer voice repeated.
"Okay, sorry," Greg mumbled, slightly confused. Backing out of Grissom's office, he retreated down the hallway to the break room.
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," the computer voice repeated for the third time.
"YES! YES, THAT IS CORRECT!"
"I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that," the computer voice sweetly informed Grissom.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimmed; I need you, Sara. I need you so much more than you can possibly imagine. "Yes," Grissom finally managed to say, hoping that his voice sounded somewhat normal. Glancing at the clock on his desk, Grissom couldn't help but frown as he noticed the fact that he had already been on the phone for close to twenty minutes.
"Thank you, I have your flight information right here."
Finally, Grissom couldn't help but think to himself. But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st; Nor shall Death brag thou wand'rest in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.
"Would you like to change or cancel your reservation? Or would you like to speak to a representative?"
"Representative," Grissom stated into the phone. Please. Please, just let me change my reservation, so that I can get to Sara in time for Christmas.
"Please wait while I transfer your call."
Grissom remained silent, letting the call be transferred.
Twenty minutes later, he had his new e-plane tickets sitting in his e-mail's inbox.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
I love you, Sara. I love you.
---------------
Finis