Please hold.

One of the most dreaded requirements of our modern technological lifestyle is something called Technical Support. Like it is some shocking surprise that people have trouble navigating 2000-page manuals written in Mandarin, the final page of these giant wastes of treelife is a small line that says "If none of these printed solutions work, you may call Technical Support." They tell you you "may" call Technical Support. What they're really saying is "you know how big of a pain in the ass our manual is? If you call the helpline it's more like a cancer in the ass, in that it will most definitely fuck you over."
Calling a helpline is like being taken back to 2nd grade. Upon being taken immediately to hold being told that there is "unusual amount of call volume" the recording will proceed to make you second guess all your reasons for calling the line in the first place. "Did you make sure that all you devices were powered on and plugged into a wall outlet?" The calming female voice chimes over a cheesy elevator tune that will, in about 45 minutes, make you want to murder a family of midgets. What is amazing is that this voice will actually make you think "Did I plug in the computer? Maybe that's been the problem this whole time. Maybe I forgot how to use a wall outlet." The questions for the voice get increasingly specific, but they are all attempts to get you off of the help line. "Did a raccoon or other woodland creature become lodged in you hard drive? If so, please refer to our website section titled "The proper removal of animal carcass and/or human waste from the hard drive of your Hewlett-Packard laptop computer." Anything and everything they can do to get you to hang up will be attempted. Sometimes the voice will come back on and managed to assume the most sarcastic tone I have ever heard in a voice recording by saying "We're sorry you're still on hold, our technicians are busy helping other valueable customers. You can stay on the line, or you can visit us at www.blahblahblah.com for more assistance." I know the technincal assistants are in the back of the cubicles huffing glue, because when I finally wait 3 hours to get on the phone with one of them, their brain capacity is below that of the woodland creature who perished when it mysteriously thrust itself into the bowels of my laptop. The technicial will act as a strange echo of the recorded voice, assuming you know absolutely nothing about the computer that you use EVERY DAY and ask you questions like "Have you checked to make sure your monitor cord is plugged in?" It's always the default move to blame it on the cords. Or, to tell you that your warranty is expired. Or, that the Lord Satan has occupied your piece of modern technology and that the best way to fix it is to find a virgin youth and have them bathe in rosewater and using the bath runoff the cleanse your laptop as the full moon waxes and 12 white leopards circle the ritual counter-clockwise.

As you can probably tell I have a bitter taste in my mouth from having to rely on technical support when my own resources fail me. Luckily, if you threaten enough people when you finally are connected they will usually waive a bunch of fees and pay for your repair because they constantly want to stick to the mantra of "get this fucker off of the phone." If they don't get you with the wait time, the idiotic staff, or the references to Satan worship, they will actually throw money at you to leave them alone in their sanctuary of telephone headsets and speed-laced lattes.