By John Estridge
While I was on hold for 50 minutes with the Indiana Department of Workforce Development (Unemployment), I was wondering if the person who wrote the instrumental song that was playing almost the entire time — only to be interrupted by robo messages about other things that might be wrong with my claim application and did I want to press 1 or 8 to go there and wait on hold — wrote it just to be used as on-hold music.
I really didn’t see any other use for the music.
I love music, all kinds, (except Rap) but I am tone deaf. My OLDEST sister Linda and I were very jealous of our OLDER/YOUNGER sister Karen for many reasons, as she was the talented sibling. There is the story that she might not really be our biological sibling but had been left on our parents’ doorstep. Anyway, Karen has a wonderful voice. Linda and I, when we would commiserate with each other, said we cannot get out of our talking voices. That was the words of kids, but it still rings true even today.
I said all that just to say I don’t know what instruments were playing even though I listened to it for 50 minutes at that time and hours on other occasions. Maybe an oboe, a mandolin, snare drums, maybe a keyboard of some sort. Go ahead and call the number 800-891-6499, and let me know the true answer. Don’t worry. You will not have to talk to another human being for 30-90 minutes, and the song and the robo messages will play over and over in a never-ending loop.
I was afraid to go to the restroom, because people are supposed to have their computers operating, the claim form open and refreshed. I was always reading email, Facebook, newspapers online and that sort of thing. So, when the robo message would repeat about keeping one’s claim screen refreshed, I would always exit what I was doing and then enter back into my claim form, dreading that I had missed my window, and the efficient (irony and sarcasm) DWD had automatically logged me out. That would have meant I would have to start over in my claim just to get to where I was having my problem.
If this had been a one-time problem, I would not be whining about it. However, it was a two-month problem. I know I’m not the brightest person to call Earth home, but I could not believe it took me two months.
That 50-minute hold scenario was actually my next to last time to be on hold with DWD, but it was probably my 22nd time to be on hold from the beginning.
This is what happened.
While I was fired on Jan. 30, I could not sign up for unemployment until late May. When that time came, I went into it with confidence. I would be able to do it without any trouble, I told myself. I’ve worked with computers for more than 30 years, and I took computer programming in the far-away days of the late 70s and early 80s.
So, I started. It listed my last three employers: Whitewater Publications, Third Place News and the Franklin County Public Library District.
First up, for whatever reason, I was to answer questions about Third Place News. It asks whether the applicant was laid off or fired. I dutifully marked the fired box. I then went to a set of questions concerning the reason for my firing. I was told by two of the three owners “The paper is going in a new direction.” Whenever I asked a question, and I had several, one or both would say that line.
The business going in a new direction is not one of the possible answers for why a person gets fired. And, there is no “Other” box. Reasons were: conviction of domestic battery, theft from your employer, chronic absenteeism and others along that route.
So, I called the DWD. It is an 800 number, and I began listening to the hold music and the robo instructions. That first time I listened to everything with rapt attention because it was my first time, but far from my last. But I did not know that at the time.
At one point, the robo voice told me my wait time would be 120 minutes or infinity or something like that, but if I left my number, they would call me back “and you will not lose your place in line.” So, I thought that was a good idea. I left my number. This took me to a new robo voice that sounded much like the last robo voice. He/she said “Someone will get in touch with you in the next 24 hours.”
So much for holding my place in line.
When they did call back, I got a young male. He said it would be easier if I just said I got laid off for lack of work. I told him that did not happen. About every 20 seconds while filling out the initial claim, there is RED type saying “Lying on the claim application is a federal offense.” I personally even snap my seat belt on even if I am going a short distance. In my adulthood, I do not knowingly break the law.
However, he assured me “it would all come out in the ensuing investigation.” I thanked him, but did not do anything he said.
I waited five minutes, and called the number back, going back on hold, listening to the maddening instrumental, listening to the robo messages and getting another person. This one was a female. She basically told me the same thing as her male counterpart.
So, with trepidation, I did as I was twice told.
That brought me to Whitewater Publications. I worked for Whitewater Publications from 1990 to June 2019. The Whitewater Publications owners’ stake in the business was purchased by Third Place News. With dread, I looked at my choices again, and none said “You lost your job with that company because that company was purchased by another company.”
After the obligatory instrumental music, the robo messages, that female said she did not know an answer to that specific question, so she said she was making a ticket for my problem and giving it to another department. They would call me in 24 hours. DID NOT HAPPEN. After two days, there was nothing.
There is a deal with filling out a claim. It has a time limit. If you do not complete it by Saturday, in the week you started it, you are clocked out, and you have to start over from the beginning. There were other forms to fill out prior to the questions about why I lost my jobs, and I did not want to go through those again.
But alas, since they did not call me back in 24 hours, I went past Saturday and was timed out.
I started again on Monday, and ran into a new problem. When I filled out the same information about Third Place News, I got an error message. A block came up with “error message,” that is how I knew it was an error message. And the error message was a bunch of letters and numbers thrown together in a seemingly random fashion. My first thought was I messed something up in filling out the claim, so I just went back to the beginning and did it over. I got an error message with a new set of seemingly random numbers and letters. I dutifully, if not efficiently, copied the second one as I had done with the first one.
Beside the error message was an 800 phone number different than the other 800 number. I was supposed to call that number concerning the error message. I called it. That number had the same instrumental music and robo messages. I was really hoping for a new song. Lyrics would be good. Alas, no. Eventually, I got another male. He said he would fill out a ticket for a department that handled that. Before I could say no, I was disconnected. However, he did say “someone will call you in 24 hours.” It must be a running joke at that office.
DID NOT HAPPEN
Thus, I called again. You got it. Same music, same robo messages. This time I got a new female. I think she could tell by my voice I am old. She gave me a new number – also an 800 number – and told me to call that.
I dutifully did.
After a long bout with the music and robo messages, the music and robo messages were maddingly the same everywhere within that government division. It was “file an unemployment claim by phone.” Hope sprang eternal.
Another female, she sounded older so maybe she would be sympathetic, started asking me questions. I gave her a lot of “yes” answers. The questions were: Do you have a computer? Do you have access to WiFi? Is the WiFi adequate? Are you computer knowledgeable? My Long Suffering Wife Ruth said I lied on the last one by saying yes, but I feel in 30 years of working with computers every day, something had to rub off on me, at least enough I could fill out an unemployment claim.
So, the lady asked me why I was calling her. I just told her the part of the eight act play concerning the error messages, and the person I called gave me her number. She sternly said “File by Phone” was not a way to circumvent error messages. She said she would fill out a ticket and someone would call me in 24 hours. I no longer had the energy to protest. I hung up knowing IT WOULD NOT HAPPEN. IT DID NOT HAPPEN.
At that point, my part-time job at the library got busy. I was asked to do research for the upcoming Blooming Grove Township book. I have proofread some of the chapters, and let me tell you it is going to be a very good book. I recommend it to everyone.
Thus, I started the process anew in two weeks. But, I was not allowed to sign in. I got this message when I tried: “Login is invalid.” It gave me another website to go to where I could reset my username and password. To get into that function, it needed my name and Social Security number. I know both of those answers and typed them in. My new message was “user does not exist.” But, there was another 800 number beside that. DWD is nothing if not ironic.
There was no way to reach a person through that number. Refreshingly there was no music. The robo voice simply told me to go to the website that for me ended with “user does not exist.” And that was that.
In the first 10 years of my adult life, I worked in factories. I would say that time of study equals a doctorate in cussing. I was taught by some of the best. At Perfect Circle, one guy could cuss for five minutes straight without repeating one curse word. I was not at that professional expertise level, but I was fluent in that language.
Well, I did my imitation as I shut down my cell phone and was somehow able to not throw it across the room, or earth. I was stopped in mid-syllable just a few oaths into my tirade as Ruth looked at me, and she was not amused. She said she understood I should be frustrated, but there were other ways to express that frustration. She didn’t say those words, but she got that specific message across.
My other way was I took to email. I emailed DWD; I emailed Gov. Holcomb’s office. Several times each day thereafter, Ruth would ask by text, phone and in person, if I had received any answers. Of course, I HAD NOT.
Realistically, Gov. Holcomb has been a little busy with that virus going around. He has to see what Ohio and Kentucky are doing, so we Hoosiers can do it, also.
Then, I had a revelation. My first interview with a politician back in the late 80s was with Franklin County resident, State Sen. Jean Leising. Leising and I have always got along well. She is one of less than a handful of politicians at all levels of government who has never lied to me. She takes her job seriously and does the best for her constituents in her district. Unfortunately, I am not in her district. Ruth got an email for a legislative assistant in Leising’s office. I wrote an email and waited. NOTHING HAPPENED, which I was sort of accustomed to. But I did not give up. I wrote an email to Jean personally. She answered it almost immediately. She apologized and said the person I emailed was leaving his job for another. She has another assistant, and that assistant talked to me via emails.
I told him the situation.
Within less than an hour, a DWD employee reached out, again by email. There is not a long wait for email, no hold time, no instrumental drivel, no robo messages. He said for me to go all the way to the beginning and log in as a new user.
That was done, and I was off. I filled out the whole claim and got to the very last page. It tells you in eight separate statements you agree not to rip off the state. Each time, one has to mark yes and then put one’s initials in a box. I marked the “yes” box, and put JE in the initial box. It sent me back to the top with a red outline on the box for my initials. I tried JLE as my middle name is L. It is a family thing. Again, that answer was rejected. I am a Jr. but I haven’t used that since my dad’s death in 1980.
I tried JLEJ. Again, a rejection. Frustration reared its ugly head, but I refrained from saying one oath.
Now, I know this is too long, but I have one more flashback story. On my 16th birthday, I went to the license bureau to get my driver’s license. Back in the day, every 16-year-old wanted to get his/her license in the worst way and as soon as possible. My desire was a little more enhanced. Things were not good at home. I saw my driver’s license as an escape. If things got too bad, I could get in a vehicle and, at least, drive away for a short time.
The female clerk asked my name, and I answered her with John L. Estridge Jr. My dad, who was drunk, said that was not true. From that moment, that statement, it was not a good time for me or the clerk. Dad went through all the Johns in our family, telling stories about funny things and not so funny things they had done, who they married, who their children were and some things about the various kids.
“So, you are actually John L. Estridge IV,” dad finally said. I looked back at the lady. She mouthed that she was sorry but he was the adult. I shrugged the best I could with my eyes and thus, my name on my license since that day is John L. Estridge IV. On my birth certificate and Social Security card, it is John L. Estridge Jr.
I have known since that day, more than 47 years ago, this would cause me problems. I was experiencing the first problem.
The box will hold only four letters. So, I tried JEIV. Nope. I tried JLEI. Nope. I tried JLEV. Nope. My final attempt was JLE4. Nope.
By that time, the DWD was closed for the day and not taking calls. I could call first thing in the morning; however, Ruth and I were planning to leave town in the morning. I called and was waiting, this time 31 minutes, when I got a person. I told her the story of the last page. She put me on hold, and the phone was completely silent. I thought she had cut the phone call off. That happened two other times during this ordeal.
I was carefully not cussing, but I was letting Ruth know how unhappy I was with everyone associated with the DWD. Ruth was nodding in affirmation when the young lady came back on the phone and told me she had not cut me off. Thus, I knew she had heard every word I had just said about her and her fellow employees.
She then told me her supervisor had told her to transfer my call to another department. Before I could say another word, I was once again on hold. The robo voice said I had two choices: give my phone number for a call back or go to the menu. I did the former. And we left, thinking I would hear nothing.
The phone rang on Main Street and across from the Main Salon, owned by Tammy Evans. Ruth and I pulled over to take the call. It is now illegal to touch a cell phone while operating a vehicle. Another young lady asked my problem, and I explained to her not only my problem, but also I was on the road and could not get to my computer.
She pulled up my claim and said she was getting the correct responses using JE. Why she did and I could not really troubles me. Maybe Ruth was not far off in saying I was lying when I said I was knowledgeable with a computer.
Once we got to where we were going, I could have answered no to all those questions about WiFi access. Dial up internet service would have been light years faster than what I was trying to operate with. However, I was able to finally finish filling out the claim.
As we arrived back home from our short trip, and had access once again to good WiFi, — thank you ETC — one of Ruth’s first questions was “Have you heard anything from unemployment yet?”
After my look, she said “I guess we’ll just wait awhile.”
And without cussing, without instrumental music and robo messages, we are figuratively on hold once again.
I just have to ponder if this is happening to me, how many other people have similar stories concerning their attempts to deal with DWD.