What I hear you saying is...

Pulling into my driveway today, I noticed that the friendly folks from PG&E had spray-painted on the sidewalk in front of our house and the rest of the neighbors' houses, too. Spying a bull-dozer parked a half-a-block away, my spidey-sense led me to conclude that digging would commence soon.

Not having received a notice in the mail, I decided to give them a call and get the scoop. I figured I'd be put on hold for a good 30 minutes, but that is the glory of speaker phone. Or so I thought...

After informing me of a 50-minute wait, the PG&E phone system chirped that there is a new service that would prompt an operator to call me back in 50 minutes if I was willing to key in phone number and record my name.

Ok, I thought - it sure beats draining the batteries on my phone. But would they make good on the promise?

Sure enough, 50 minutes later I got a call back from a PG&E rep that was ready to answer my questions. Sadly, after several minutes, it turned out she also had no idea what the construction gear parked in our neighborhood is all about, and suggested I talk with the work crew tomorrow morning. Thanks for calling!

By and large, phone-tree systems have devolved into that realm of D-grade stand-up comedian material, right up there with mother-in-laws, airline food, and aging. And they deserve their reputation -- they've become a costly bane for corporations, and a liability for brand and reputation (e.g. just try getting a hold of a human at an otherwise trustworthy company like Amazon.com when your order goes south).

But this PG&E application kindled a spark of hope in my otherwise dark outlook on customer service in the US. Sure, the woman on the end of the line ultimately didn't have the answer to my question. But at least I wasn't left dangling in a flaccid wind of Kenny G tunes while awaiting my disappointment.

Injured perhaps, but no insults.