I’ve mentioned repeatedly how much I miss the good old days—when you called a business and an actual human being answered the phone. Let me re-emphasize that I STILL miss the good old days.

Recently, Hubby and I attempted what was supposed to be a simple timeshare exchange online. We’d been discussing trading our week for a cruise instead of yet another timeshare. The exchange website showed cruise options for 2027 and 2028—but mysteriously, nothing for 2026. Naturally, we wanted to know why.

So, I clicked on the helpful little “Just Answer” box displayed RIGHT THERE on the exchange company’s website.

Stupid me.

I assumed “Just Answer” meant “just answer my timeshare question.” Instead, after several minutes of back-and-forth with a bot, the non-human kindly offered to have a human call us back (probably from a basement in India). Oh—and it charged us a $5.00 setup fee. Against our better judgment, we grudgingly entered our credit card information.

While still waiting for our promised human, I asked the bot, “Why are we being charged $5.00 just to ask a question about a timeshare exchange?”

Imagine my surprise when the bot cheerfully explained that the fee was to set us up with a “Just Answer” account—where, for the low, low price of $50.00 a month, we would enjoy unlimited access to verified experts, including doctors, lawyers, mechanics, and tech support, all ready to deliver fast, personalized answers within minutes.

WAIT.

All we wanted was to ask our timeshare company ONE QUESTION. How did we get shanghaied into a subscription service covering everything from engine trouble to medical emergencies?

Thankfully, before our human ever called, we informed the bot that we had signed up by mistake, and it graciously released us from our obligation—proof that even robots can show mercy.

Back to square one.

I Googled the phone number for our timeshare exchange, since it was NOWHERE to be found on the actual website. While being on hold forever, we were treated to repeated helpful recorded messages like, “Did you know you can easily book your exchange on our website?”

Uh, no. You can’t. Which is WHY WE ARE CALLING IN THE FIRST PLACE.

Eventually, a real human answered. We explained our situation. After verifying our membership number, names, address, and phone number, she said, “Oh, I see you have a gold membership. Let me transfer you to THAT department.”

Swell. Back on hold.

Another human answered. We repeated the entire story. Again, we verified our membership number, names, address, and phone number. Then she said, “Oh, I need to transfer you to our cruise department.”

I’m still unclear why this couldn’t have happened from the beginning—without all the ritualistic re-verifications—but at that point, resistance felt futile.

Finally, after more than 30 minutes on hold and being passed through two departments, we reached the cruise department. The lady explained why we couldn’t exchange for a cruise this year and how we MIGHT be able to do so next year—an explanation so complicated that I’m still not convinced I understand it.

We decided to stick with booking cruises separately and leave our timeshare exchange untouched. On the bright side, we now have a direct line to the cruise department, which we will probably never use again.

The entire process took over an hour. We still didn’t have an exchange.

At this point, maybe the best vacation plan is to stay home, turn off the phone, and rest—because clearly, navigating modern customer service requires more stamina than the actual trip.

I miss the days when “Just Answer” meant just that—and not a subscription, a bot, and my patience slowly evaporating.