I thought raspy voice made you a good phone operator

Note to self: When you lose your voice. And I mean completely lose your voice, it is never ever a good idea to pay your bills by phone.

A combination of post-nasal drip, coughing up phlegm, and yelling non-stop at an intense all-day volleyball tournament have caused me to lose my voice. We're talking beyond hoarse here. I am essentially just lip syncing right now. At best it's a strained whisper, with a syllable or two of dog whistling squeak, mixed in with an intermittent baritone vowel. It ain't pretty.

My bill for the Internets was due yesterday, and for those that don't remember, I still pay my bills the old-fashioned way, so rather than take my chances with the postal service, I decided I'd call customer service and pay it over the phone.

Wouldn't you know it, for some reason it didn't register any of the numbers I punched in my keypad, so my only option was voice recognition software.

Oh the little computerized operator was so patient with me, but I was in my own personal hell.

Computerized Operator (CO): What would you like to do?

LMNT: Pay my bill.

CO: Did you say, 'representative'?

LMNT: Nooooooooooo! [shrill squeal with manly untertones]

CO: What did you say?

LMNT: Pay my bill.

CO: Okay, pay your bill. Let's start with the nine-digit routing number followed by the ten-digit account code.

LMNT: Nooooooooooo! [thinking of the havoc this was going to wreak on my poor, poor vocal cords]

CO: You don't want to pay your bill? Okay, let's start over, what do you want to do?

Poke my eyeball out with a bic pen was surprisingly not an option that registered.