My conversation with Julie at Amtrak

My mother came down on Friday for Passover. I picked her up at the Amtrak station, but first I wanted to find out whether the train was on time. So I called Amtrak.

Now, if you've ever tried to call Amtrak, at least from the East Coast, you'll know that instead of being connected to an operator, you get into a phone conversation with "Julie," which is what the woman trapped inside Amtrak's voice-recognition system calls herself.

Should you ever have to speak to Julie, I highly recommend not trying to do it by cell phone. Because if you do, and your reception is spotty, you may end up with the following conversation:

Julie: Hi, I'm Julie, Amtrak's automated agent. If you'd like to get information about arrivals and departures, just say, "Train Status." If you . . .

Me: Train status.

Julie: Fine, let's get started. First, do you know the number of the train?

Me: No.

Julie: No problem. What station is the train arriving at?

Me: New Carrollton, Maryland.

Julie: I think you said New Carrollton, Maryland. Is that right?

Me: Yes.

Julie: Good. Now, what station is the train departing from?

Me: New York, New York.

Julie: I think you said New London. Is that right?

Me: No.

Julie: OK, what station is the train departing from?

Me: Penn Station, New York.

Julie: I think you said Back Bay Station, Boston. Is that right?

Me: No.

Julie: OK, what station is the train departing from?

Me: New York.

Julie: I think you said York, Pennsylvania. Is that right.

Me: NO!!

Julie: OK, what station . . .

Me: (quietly) A--hole.

Julie: . . . is the train departing . . . Wait, what did you say?

Me: Huh? Uh, nothing.

Julie: No, I think I heard you call me a name. A very unflattering name.

Me: I didn't. I just told someone in the car I needed a flat sole for my shoe.

Julie: Sure you did. You called me an a--hole.

Me: No, really . . .

Julie: Listen, do you understand what I have to go through in a typical day? Do you realize how hard it is for me to stay perky? Do you?

Me: Um . . .

Julie: First, I get the people who can't speak English. They tell me they want to travel to Naubonsik or Feeadeffy. Do you know what those names mean?

Me: Uh, I . . .

Julie: Next, I get the lonelyhearts and the pervs. The lonelyhearts call just to hear a voice, anyone's voice, even a computer's voice, and the pervs actually try to pick me up. "Hey, Babe, wanna help me get my train running?" Is that supposed to be clever, 'cause it isn't. "Hey, Julie, what are you wearing right now?" Just sick.

Me: I didn't . . .

Julie: Then, there are the morons like you who call me while they're eating lunch.

Me: I wasn't eating lunch. I was just on a cell phone, and the . . .

Julie: They eat their lunch, and they mumble something indistinct with a mouthful of ham sandwich and a . . .

Me: I wasn't eating a ham sandwich. I keep kosher and besides, the problem . . .

Julie: (quietly) A Joooo . . .

Me: . . . was at your . . . Hey, did you just call me a Jew?

Julie: No, I sneezed.

Me: Oh, c'mon. You didn't sneeze. You said, A Jew. I want to talk to your supervisor.

Julie: I don't have a supervisor. I'm a computer.

Me: I want to talk to your supervisor.

Julie: I think you said Sacramento. Is that right?

Me: No.

Julie: Hold on, I'll transfer you to an Amtrak agent.

(Click.)