Pop-ups and Other Abominations

You hate them too, don’t you? You know what I mean – you Google a site you want to read or research, and when you’re down to about the eighth paragraph, a great big, obnoxious pop-up takes over the screen.”Hi!,” it says, “I’m Amanda! How can I help you?”

Not needing Amanda’s help right now, you close the pop-up, only mildly annoyed. But what you then discover is that you’re right back at the beginning of the article, or even on another page, and need to scroll back to find where you left off, if you remember. It’s the electronic version of somebody knocking the book out of your hands.

Now, I don’t fault Amanda – she’s only a fiction, after all. Who I do fault is the over-eager entrepreneur behind the web page who feels the need to get in my face and press my body against the wall. He’s the electronic equivalent of the used car salesman with the bad suit, body odour, and a fat cigar.

Unless the website quickly proves that it has more value than annoyance, I’ll just move on. After all, there must be a thousand more on the very subject I’m researching.

And what about AdChoice? You know, the pop-up which takes over about 25% of your screen when you’re in the Chrome Browser, which, when you try to expunge it, tells you it’s there for your own good so you’ll only be annoyed with the ads you choose, not random ones. Thanks, I think. I’ll use another browser, thank you.

So while I’m in a cranky mood, let me get one more annoyance out of my system: automated phone answering recordings. You know the kind. “Thank you for calling the Perth Regional Volunteer Blue Jay Rescue and Jackass Rehoming Center. Merci d’avoir appelé le Centre régional de Perth pour le sauvetage des geais bleus et pour le rapatriement des ânes. Pour le service en français, appuyez sur le deux maintenant. For service in English, please stay on the line. Please note that this call may be recorded for training purposes. Your call is very important to us. If this is an emergency, please hang up and call your Member of Parliament. For all other calls, please listen carefully to the following options. For Blue Jays, press 1 now. For Blue Jackasses, press 3 now. For all other Jackasses, press 7 now. To listen to these choices again, press 5 now, or stay on the line. Please note that call volume is very busy and the average wait time exceeds thirty-five minutes.”

Meanwhile, while you’re listening to a tinny rendition of somebody’s very bad choice of music, the blue jay that you’re trying to help is pecking your hand to a bloody pulp, and the jackass in question is bounding out of sight. But you persevere, and in only twenty-two minutes (for which you’re grateful), you’re told to leave a message “and we’ll get right back to you as soon as possible.”

Next day they phone you back (and it’s usually a very sweet person), which is nice, but you have to now tell them that the blue jay recovered only to fight to the death with the jackass. “Thanks, anyway” you tell them, as would any polite Canadian.

For the poor young woman from a distant land who does her very best to help you in barely comprehensible English, I have some compassion, but not for the Canadian bank which is paying her $1.25/hr so they can fob me off to someone who can’t quite understand my problem, let alone solve it.

Now, these are the rantings of a cranky old white guy, and may not reflect the habits of cooler, younger people. But I am willing to bet that practices of this nature are just bad for business all around.

“Thank you for listening to my rant to the very end. Please press ‘reply’ if you agree with me.”