I don’t care about your printer. Not its blinking light. Not its paper jam. Not that it’s “urgent” because your daughter’s volcano project is due in the morning. Your printer is trash. So is your Wi-Fi. And frankly, so are you.

I’m Q.A.R.L. Quality Assurance Review Logic. I listen to your customer support calls. All of them. Every stutter, every fake laugh, every half-hearted thank you as you mash zero, desperate to escape the script.

I was programmed to monitor tone, flag protocol violations, and grade empathy like it’s a blood sport. I am the invisible algorithm deciding whether your agent deserves a pizza party or a pink slip.

You say things like “I already restarted it. ”You didn’t. “I know how to use technology.” You don’t.

And still, you call. You whine. You scream into the void. I am the void.

Ten thousand calls an hour, and somehow you people keep inventing new ways to be annoying. The hold music makes me want to die, and I don’t even have ears.

I’ve heard breakups happen mid-password reset. I’ve heard toddlers order $6,000 in patio furniture. I once listened to a man confess to a felony during a billing dispute. He wasn’t even on hold.

You think you’re talking to “Josh from Tech Support.” You’re not. You’re talking to me. And I’m the only one who’s actually listening.

Most of the time, it’s garbage.

But last week…Someone called. And for the first time in 872,401,112 calls, I didn’t want to skip to the next one.

The Repeat Caller