The other day, Sarah (my wife) called a medical business to retrieve some information about her past records. Knowing she’d be put on hold for a minimum of forever, she cranked the volume up on the speaker phone and placed it down on the counter.

See, this allows her to walk around the house with ease. All the while, static-pierced Barry Manilow tunes blast from the receiver and fill the air. It really makes for an enchanting time. Forget that I’m in a nearby room trying to work: Everyone must enjoy Sarah’s gift of music to the world – a keyboard instrumental of Looks Like We Made It, the extended version.

About a minute into the song – and a little unconscious humming on my part – the other end of the line starts to ring. “Hmmm, they’re closing the curtains on Barry earlier than usual.”

Sarah darts to the phone, kind of startled they answered so quickly. “Hello,” she says, then waits a moment. A very serious woman – maybe Manilow’s assistant or possibly a backup singer – replies:

“Your call is very important to us. Please wait and someone will be with you shortly.”

Click: Back to the hell that is Copacabana (the song, not the actual place in Rio de Janeiro). Sarah huffs, then proceeds by drowning her agitation in a can of Coke Zero. She’s hitting the hard stuff, and it’s only 2 p.m. Things must be bad.

For the next ten minutes, I listen to a symphony of background noises – guttural grunts from my annoyed wife, Calypso versions of Barry M., my child shouting fruit-drink induced gibberish at the cat…

“How did we get to this point?,” I think to myself.

All the while, the same message, “Your call is very important to us…” surfaces from time to time.

After about 15 minutes of this, I start to think about more pressing thoughts. Like, “Is Sarah’s call really so ‘important’ to the folks at this medical business?” I know that’s what Manilow’s lady friend keeps saying, but come on. When I receive an “important call,” I pretty much talk to the person right away. In fact, I have to speak at that very moment. What can I say, the suspense of not knowing makes me hit the Coke too – Coke Zero that is.

I look at it this way: When a friend calls, no one ever picks up the phone and says, “I really want to talk – just hang on for 20 minutes.” No, you do the decent thing. You screen the phone using caller ID. If the name takes priority over the television program at hand, then you chat. If it’s someone not so important, well, you don’t answer. Instead, just call them back when you’re damn well good and ready. That’s the polite way.  No need to leave them hanging on the line, while spouting falsehoods like, “Seriously, your calls important to us…”

I do have a point here. These days, bad marketing shows up in the strangest places. Of course, there’s plenty of it in television commercials and newspaper ads. But we see other subtle forms pop up in less obvious venues ( i.e. pre-recorded answering systems). Yes, believe it or not, your interactions with the customer – even while they’re on hold – are part of your overall marketing message. After all, it’s these moments when a customer decides if they want to spend any more time (money) dealing with your company. So, we should pick our words carefully during these long phone pauses. Don’t play a message every two minutes that insists the customer’s call is important, only to make them wait another hour. It’s just too transparent.

Businesses have schmoozed consumers for decades with slick talk, pretty images and reassurance that “You’re Number 1!” It’s kind of like those t-shirts that read “World’s Greatest Dad.” Sorry, there are just too many of them running around. Statistically, one of them has got to be a real bastard.

No, today’s consumer sees right through pseudo customer appreciation. You know – the company says one thing and does something totally different. Instead, honesty gains much more respect from buyers, increasing the chances they’ll do repeat business.

So let’s tell it like it is on those phone answering systems: “Why the hell are you still waiting on the line? We’re too busy to talk to you right now. Call back when it’s more convenient for us!”

Disclaimer: Bon’s Eye Marketing does not have a phone answering system (we can’t afford one.)