A couple of weeks ago I called Waste Management — which has one of those flash call centres of the “Press 1 if you are moderately dissatisfied” variety — to ask them to come and empty our garden waste bin, a service that will set you back $15. They took my credit card details and told me to make sure our bin was left out on Tuesday night or before 07:00 on Wednesday morning. By Wednesday afternoon the bin hadn’t been emptied. I called back and was told the bin wasn’t scheduled for emptying until Saturday, although the computer said my credit card had already been debited. It hadn’t. Late on Thursday afternoon the phone rang. “Hello is that Ron?” the woman asked. No, I said and gave her my name. “Could I speak to Angela?” I told her she probably had the wrong number. “Is that Chris Bell?” I confirmed that I am indeed me. “Oh, this is Waste Management, you were next on my list.” Is that what they call predictive dialling, I wondered... “Your garden waste will be collected on Friday.” I was sceptical — not Saturday, then, as I’d previously been told? No, definitely Friday. When I looked in the bin on Sunday evening it was still full of waste, waiting to be managed. Another long call centre queue, another charming Waste Management representative. I am assured my bin will be emptied today. Did they have any idea what had gone wrong last week? I’m paraphrasing here but, “Computer says no.” Not exactly waste management, then.