I called AT&T to unlock my decommissioned phone, and I was greeted by a pleasant computer voice. He said I could speak to him in complete sentences, and ask him anything.

"I want to unlock my phone." He sent me a text with instructions on how to make this request on their website. The reason I was calling in the first place is because my online request was denied. Their circular service model appears to be build around discouraging me from unlocking my phone.

I told him that I had already tried the website and that I needed to speak to an operator. After both my requests, he said, "Hang on while I check on that." And then I could hear typing on the phone. At first, I thought how stupid do they think I am that this computer is actually typing, but then I realized, silence would be worse.

This simple skeuomorph was well conceived. To fill the silence, they needed something that signaled we're making progress. The typing sound does exactly that.

A minor annoyance that happens often is when someone sees me in the hallway and asks, "Did you get my email?" I find it frustrating on two levels:

I'm not in my email all day. I check it at multiple times a day, but I try not to be distracted by every message as they arrive.
They know the email in their heads, but often that basic question isn't enough to trigger the topic they want to discuss.

I've learned this question comes from a void that individual is feeling. They know they sent the request, but now they are just hearing silence. So lately, I'm borrowing from AT&T, and I'm providing my own typing sounds to reassure email senders that things are moving forward.

"Great question. Let me look into it, and I'll get back to you shortly."
"That's a good idea. Give me a couple of days to think about it."
"I'm on it. I'll update you once I know more."
"Thanks for sharing."

Stanley, the Hammering Automation

Visual Work History

The Benefits of Fake Typing