On Mute

I was on the phone with my mobile carrier's support center. Not as an engineer. As a customer.

I'd been trying to change a plan option on their website. I could log in, navigate to the right screen. But it wouldn't let me go further. I tried everything I could think of, gave up, and called.

A young woman picked up. Polite, patient. "Do you have a computer available?" "Could you open a private browsing window?" "Could you try a different browser?"

When she asked me to clear my cookies, the engineer brain kicked in on its own. Next she'll ask me to disable cache in DevTools, I thought. Or check localStorage. She didn't go that far, but in my head, a full troubleshooting session was already running.

I cut in. "Actually, I've already tried that—"

She interrupted me. Gently. "I'm walking you through the steps in order, so could you bear with me?" The voice was polite. The meaning was clear. Be quiet.

This is how those people are made, I thought. The guy who announces "I know about this stuff." Disrupts the support script, creates more work, solves nothing. I was becoming that guy.

I flipped the switch off. From there, I was a robot. "Yes." "Yes." "Done." "Yes, same screen." "Yes, no change."

In the end, it couldn't be done from the website. They'd handle it on their end.

Before hanging up, I thanked her for her patience, and said one thing. This process was a bit too difficult for me — could she pass that along as feedback?

My mother would never be able to do this.