Being on hold is worse than an egg in a bap

Surely there’s better out there? But for just a moment it’s nice to settle for something besides perfection.

When our broadband fails, or our cats stop purring, we’re treated to something similar. After you’ve dialled in a series of numbers to test your sanity and guide you to hell, the final boss emerges from its cryogenic cavern and stares into the eyes of the victim. You have now been put on hold.

Oliver Shasha wonders about the future of the cinema (Image: Oliver Shasha)

Being on hold is worse than an egg in a bap, it possesses far less charm, far less warmth or comfort.

The past decades have seen challenges to the egg in a bap. The Benedict, the Royale, the avo-on-sourdough. But whilst phones have gotten smaller then bigger again, TVs flatter and with added dimensions — that pocket of time in telecommunication purgatory still stands tall and proud.

For many years now I’ve considered being on-hold as the anomaly of today’s 5G apocalypse. In an otherwise air-tight world of AI, how has a century-old one-to-one transaction evaded the scythe of innovation? Perhaps though this isn’t a subject of concern, but rather a fragment of the past that we simply can’t let go.

Like many, I feel that I’m operating at a million miles per hour. This means that when those elevator crescendos pass through my ear canal, the pause in productivity is a dagger to the heart.

We’ve been conditioned now to expect the very best, when sometimes there’s a freedom to the modern world’s imperfections. Once that ludicrous, '90s chime begins and you’re stuck in the eternal ether, consider it a soundtrack to a needed pause. An opportunity to stave off the rush of the job, and like you would an egg in a bap, embrace being on hold.

Oliver Shasha is bassist with the band FEET and a Muswell Hill resident.