Okay, I will concede that talking elevators are useful for people who are visually impaired. The days of elevator operators are over, which is good. That had to be a royally sucky job. But if you can’t see very well and there’s no poor, bored, underpaid working slob dying for a break … any break … whose job it is to let you off on the right floor, even though he’d probably rather toss you down the shaft, it helps to have an elevator that tells you where you are and where you are headed.
That doesn’t make it any less like The Twilight Zone when a disembodied voice announces, “Floor 11. Going UP,” with a little rise in pitch at the end.a But I’m willing to live in The Twilight Zone for a couple of minutes if it will help some of my fellow humans get from one floor to another.
But if I ever hear an elevator say, “Room for one more, honey,” I’m taking the stairs.
If anyone is ever thinking of getting me a talking watch for Christmas, DON’T. First of all, I have no luck with watches. If I don’t do something to break them, the battery wears out unexpectedly or the damned thing doesn’t work in the first place. This is beside the fact that I can’t get a normal sized watchband to fit around my big-boned wrist. So watches are not good gifts for me in the first place. Second, see the title of this piece. Enough said.
I guess they figured that the approximately 102 decibels generated by an arriving train weren’t loud enough.a As if New York doesn’t have enough noise already, they decided to add more by broadcasting announcements over the PA system. So we get yet another disembodied voice telling people what they could easily figure out for themselves just by looking up at the nice train arrival information sign or asking someone else who just read it. Another great example of redundancy in action.
Don’t get me started on those talking fish wall plaques. They are worth a whole new post of their own, under “Redneck Interior Decorating.”
Aha! I think I have the title of my next post!
aI found that out here: One More Report On What Makes the New York City Subways Suck
I work for a large company and when you call the office, you will always hear Carmel’s voice, directing you to press one for this or two for that. I got a new cell phone the other day and asked Carmel to set up my voice mail so when you call Bill Y and he can’t take your call, you’re greeted by Carmel’s voice, telling you that I can’t take your call right now as I’m out hatching devious plans to rid the world of the so-called music of Bon Jovi. That’s all very well and funny but I get so many people calling me, just wanting to hear the message and now poor Carmel is inundated with people asking for her to record a message!! Technology gone mad is what it is!
Carmel, yet another casualty of the Information Age.
I think I need help because some of my most philosophical conversations have been with the automated time recording voice, i.e. The time is 8:49 and 2 seconds . . . but really, isn’t time just a relative state of being?
We can always use that as an excuse for being late.
Well, your Christmas list is narrowed down kathy!
True. The problem with my Christmas wish list is that I have champagne tastes and most of my friends and family have beer budgets.
You’d hate my wife’s phone … I don’t think Siri likes me.
Phones should be seen and not heard.