Sometimes I feel like a cooperative canine in a dog and pony show while trying to make one of those toll-free 800 calls on the telephone.

Not long ago I called a firm in another city with a question about one of their products. Now there may have been a time when someone would answer the telephone at the other end, ask a question or two, and connect me with another human who could hopefully answer my query. However, this isn’t the situation these days.

My call was answered by an obviously recorded voice which gave me four choices to consider, with an explanation for each. To go on to the next level, I selected one of the numbers on my telephone keyboard. (Just what anyone with an older rotary dial phone should do wasn’t explained at all.) Anyway this was hoop one.

After selecting that particular number, I was given two more choices to consider. This was hoop two.

Then I was asked during one recent call to punch in the 10 numbers for my home telephone listing. I thought this was pure stupidity. It was like I was calling myself from another area code right in the middle of this particular telephone call. Yet, if this call was to be continued, I supposedly had to follow this strange command.

After a few seconds the recorded voice said, &uot;The telephone number you have dialed is …. If this is not correct, please redial the right 10 digits for the telephone number you are now using.&uot;

All I heard were nine digits. I punched out the magical 10 numbers again and heard the same nine numbers in reply. Despite this obvious error on the other end of the call, I still managed to go through the third hoop.

The fourth hoop in this particular telephone circus consisted of three sections. One was the recorded message that all the customers representatives were currently busy and I would get the first person available. Another section was the recorded notice that my call could be monitored or recorded by a supervisor for better customer relations, or for training purposes. And the third section was music.

This music is what some folks like to call the elevator or waiting room type. It’s generic and boring as all heck. A good example of this music is

the type of tunes played during those &uot;weather on the eights&uot; segments on cable television’s Weather Channel.

Sometimes it might take a minute or so to finally make contact with a real human on the other end of those telephone calls. Then again, it might take up to 15 or 20 minutes. Meanwhile, we’re still hearing that unexciting music and a message every few minutes that &uot;all our operators (or customer representatives) are still busy.&uot;

Finally, after going through all these hoops, our big reward comes. We get the distinct opportunity to speak to a real human in our quest for an answer to a question, or assistance with a problem.

However, the cooperative canine I mentioned at the start of this column gets a nominal reward for going through the hoops at the dog and pony show. The canine gets something to eat.

Now, if I can backtrack slightly, here’s a tactic to use in coping with hoop four in my scenario while making one of these 800 calls.

First, take the cell, portable or land line telephone and go lie on the davenport or couch. After all, the anticipated long wait could become an opportunity to take a short rest. Second, place the phone fairly close to your ear. In this way you can hear the music and the repeated messages of, &uot;All our operators (or customer representatives) are still busy.&uot; Then, third, when the voice of a live person is heard you can finally complete the call.

As a footnote, I’ll add a fourth point. One should try to stay fairly awake while the numbingly boring music is being heard on the telephone.

(Feature writer Ed Shannon’s column appears Fridays in the Tribune.)