Ewan Morrison: 'There was a time before call centres when you rang a number and someone answered'

SIX hours of my life have been destroyed. In that time I've been subjected to the same 40-second section of Vivaldi over a hundred times. 'Spring' from The Four Seasons – the jaunty bit where the violins all rise up like the surging of new flowers – Dah da dadada da da Dah – only to be abruptly cut off before the rousing crescendo with a woman's voice repeating for the 35th time: "You have been placed in a queue and will be answered as soon as possible." Then the music, s

I am in the process of moving flat so 'change of details' calls had to be made to everyone, from gas, electricity and internet providers to council tax and insurance companies. That's a lot of Vivaldi to get through. George Orwell could not, for all his prophetic foresight, have envisaged a form of systematic humiliation as extreme. Japanese drip-torture has at least the reassurance of infinitely subtle variations within the drip noises.

Out of the eight companies I called, four of them had Vivaldi, which was disorientating to say the least, as at times I forgot who I was on hold to and why. I almost screamed after one exchange with BT. I had just been told yet again that I was about to be put on hold, so I shouted "Stop! Please, no more Vivaldi!" The woman on the other end of the phone was perplexed, so I asked politely if the hold music could be turned off. "I'll ask the supervisor," she said. "Let me put you on hold." Dah da dadada da da Dah…

Still more unsettling was a call to NPower. I was at first relieved that there was no call-waiting music. But then, minute after minute, the anxiety grew. Had I been cut off? Was I really on hold? Hello? Is anybody out there? Words lost in the void. After eight minutes of deathly silence the strangest thing happened – I started humming Vivaldi.

Is that not terrifying? That part of my brain has its own call-waiting system? Would I need neural surgery to remove it? There is certainly no point in calling customer complaints as I'd be put on hold and the music would start again.

The only practical solution is to stop using companies who use Vivaldi. Thankfully, BT's landline monopoly is breaking down, and competitors may give us options. Virgin already offers four tunes to switch between as tedium starts. Scissor Sisters… Vivaldi… Franz Ferdinand… Vivaldi… ad infinitum.

But the biggest question is why I am being made to wait at all. Is it just me or was there a time before call centres and call waiting when you dialled a number and then someone picked it up? Or is this some childish fantasy of a fully functioning adult world? Is every company in the world understaffed? Does the necessary profit margin based on exploiting workers mean that consumers must pay the price in musical purgatory?

I have a nightmare vision. At the end of time, when all words said and sounds ever made in the history of our planet will be broadcast into the universe, our one great message that sums up the millennia of our evolution and civilisation will be: "Thank you for calling, you have been placed in a queue and will be answered as soon as possible." Then the violins will start again. Dah da dadada da da Dah.