What this country needs - even more than a shorter baseball season so the World Series doesn't go into November - is a popular uprising against the tyranny of telephone robots.

This is how those talking machines drive you up the wall.

You want some information from a company, but there is no local number. So, dreading what comes next, you dial the toll-free number in the book.

After the greeting and a burst of Spanish - which presumably means that if you prefer that language you should push numero uno or something - a machine asks you for your account number.

You don't have one, of course. And while you're thinking of what you might say to get to the next step, the machine gets impatient:

"I'm sorry, I didn't get what you said. In order to proceed with this call, I need your account number."

You sputter something in response, but it's not an account number.

The robot comes back wanting to know your phone number. This is something you can provide, and you do, grudgingly, knowing that it really won't help.

Sure enough, the robot asks: "I don't recognize this number in our records. Is this the phone number for the account you have with our company?"

No, you dummy, it's not. It's my own phone number.

"I don't have an account," you say.

Robot: "I'm sorry, I didn't understand. Is this the telephone number on the account? In order to proceed with your request, I need an account number or the telephone number for the account. If you do not have an account number or do not know it, say: I don't know it."

"I don't know it," you mumble, obediently.

Robot: "I'm sorry, I did not understand. Please say what you would like. Such as: I have a question about my bill. Or, I would like to change my address..."

"Look," you reply, restraining yourself, "I don't have a question like that. I have no account with your company. I do not have a question about my bill. In fact, I have no bill because I have no account with your company and I have not done business with your company in 20 years. OK?"

That was the wrong thing to say.

"I'm sorry, I did not understand." The robot is polite, you have to give her that.

Several minutes have gone by. You have been trying to communicate, and the robot resolutely refuses to play along.

At last you have an idea: "I want to speak to a person," you shout into the phone.

"I am transferring you to an agent."

Hallelujah!

"Please wait for the next available agent," a different voice announces.

You wait for the next available agent. After 10 or 15 second: "Please wait for the next available agent."

Finally, things are looking up: "For quality service, this call may be recorded."

You get the feeling that it's been recorded all along and now and then, after work, the employees back there sit around and have a good laugh when they play back the tapes. (hh)