My captors don’t give me a lot of information, but that goes with being a hostage.
Their psychological torture techniques are subtle and effective.
I am not sure how much longer I can hold out.
That incessant muzak playing non-stop in the background numbs the mind and you begin to think up things to tell them that they haven’t even asked you.
And then a voice comes onto the line, the recording is bad, a man’s voice, speaking in heavily accented English.
“Thank you for holding, you call will be answered by the next available representative.”
I begin to cry like the broken man that I am.
Such is my life on hold.
There is a problem with my laptop, so I called the toll free 800 number.
And that is were it began.
I know that, in reality, I simply heard a recording and then muzak, but my mind has had a different experience.
First, they kicked in my front door, I ran down the hall, but they tazered me.
A sack was roughly pulled over my head as they dragged me out of the house, and threw me into a vehicle.
It happened so quickly, I really couldn’t fight back.
I realized I was stuck in windowless room with harsh lights and a faint urine smell called “Hold”.
And I have been here for days.
Or 45 minutes, but that clock might be one of their tricky devices.
At some point I became dimly aware of the fact that I have shit myself.
While I wait, I try googling possible fixes on my internet pad.
No dice, I am stuck waiting for my Indian captors to give me their demands.
I am not being reflexively racist, I am simply going by the voice on the recording.
It is morning in Mumbai, India.
It used to be called Bombay, but they changed it for reasons unkown.
You would think that everyone in the call center would be full of energy and cranking thru their morning calls.
I loved Slum Dog Millionaire, but that does me no good if I never get a chance to talk to a live human being.
The recorded voice comes on again to tell me that many answers to what they are sure are MY questions are available online.
However, as I cannot connect to the internet, this advice in cruel and belittling.
As I am sure they are aware.
I am not sure who set up their Customer Service process and procedures, but I am sure he is a former German SS researcher who fled to India after the war.
He is known only as the Director and his rage is legendary.
I am purely guessing at this point, but this subtle torture has his feel to it.
They will kill me eventually, dumping my body and defective laptop off in an unknown location.
The line clicks.
They hung up on me!
You rotten bastards!
It is now on like Mumbai Donkey Kong, MF-er!
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