I was impressed to read recently that a retired Dundee civil servant is the new voice of the BT speaking clock.

And, apparently he is the first Scottish voice - and the first non-English voice chosen for the role.

He was quoted as saying “I found that your eyes begin to blur a bit because of all the numbers that you're reading, but I think it went okay."

This reminded me of the afternoon-from-hell I had a few months back when I was asked to do the voice recordings for my company’s new phone system, which was put in place and new voice messages were needed to inform the public of Public Holiday’s and revised opening times.

“It’s really simple Janice,” Jim, the telephone technician lied.

“I’ll run through the buttons on the phone and we can test it a few times before you begin.”

“Well how long do you think this will take Jim?” I enquired, because my boss was never too happy if I was away from my desk for any length of time.

“Not long, he assured.

“If we start at 4pm it should only take us roughly fifteen minutes.”

“And anyway,” he added. “I MUST be on 6pm train back to Manchester.”

So there I was sitting in a room with a telephone system I had never seen before in my life and a script which I was supposed to record.

After looking through the paperwork I shouted.

“Jim, hang on a blinkin minute,” I was sounding a bit rattled and I hadn’t even started!

“There are fourteen voice recording messages.”

“I was told there was just one.”

“I know Janice,” Jim explained.

“But we need different messages for different departments and offices.”

“Well we better get started if you want to get that 6pm train,” I suggested sarcastically.

Patiently Jim went through the buttons on the phone and showed me how to record, listen to my recorded message, and how to save or delete them.

“Right go for it Janice.”

“Em, why don’t you wait outside Jim and you can watch me through the glass as I’m a bit nervous,” I suggested.

Jim shook his head.

“You’re not rehearsing for XFactor Janice,” he smirked as he headed out of the room.

“It’s only a phone message.”

Nervously I sat with my pen and pad and mentally rehearsed the first message before pressing the record button.

“Welcome to N………. I am sorry but the advertising compartment is closed until …..”

Argh.

Advertising compartment?

Where the hell did that come from?

“Jim I need to start again and I cannae remember how to delete it.”

Jim came back into the room and pressed a few buttons to remove my first failed voice recording, which eventually I mastered before going on to another one for another of our offices.

Finally I seemed to be on a roll.

“Press one for Advertising enquiries, or to place an advert.”

“Press two for Editorial enquiries or to speak to a reporter.”

“Press three for circulation and newspaper sales.”

“Press five for credit control.”

“Press…..”

Oh no. I had missed option four.

“Jim can you come back in a minute.”

Jim huffed and puffed as he entered the room yet again.

“Janice, by hook or by crook I really must get the 6pm train,” he frantically tapped the face of his watch which was now showing 5.15pm.

Here we go again on to message number eight.

“Welcome to N…….. Please choose from one of the following options.”

“Press one for the Clydebank Post.”

“Press two for the Dumbarton and Vale of Leven Reporter.”

“Press three for the Helensburgh Advertiser.”

‘I’m actually quite good at this.’ I thought to myself.

“Press four for the Gazette.”

“Press five for the Braehead News.”

Eh? Braehead News?

It’s supposed to be Barrhead News.

“Jim have you got a minute?”

Jim was now more than hacked off as it was obvious his 6pm train was no longer an option.

6.30pm and all voice recordings were successfully complete.

Or so I thought.

Following the Easter weekend break I happened to be in a meeting with nine of my colleagues when one smart ass piped up.

“Have any of you heard the Public Holiday voice recording on our phone system?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“I don’t know who the heck it is,” she laughed.

“But she sounds like the Reverend I. M. Jolly on Valium.”

Everyone was in hysterics except me of course.

“Actually it was me,” I thought I might as well nip this humiliation right in the bud.

The room fell silent and no one ever mentioned it again.

Or at least not to my face.

Now I fully understand why the new ‘Scottish’ speaking clocks eyes were blurring when recording, because my head was certainly nipping.

And Jim? Well he never did return to Scotland.