Saturday, November 24, 2012

A problem with my Time-Warner.

Over the years we have all been folded, spindled and mutilated by various marketers. These marketers have set up oxymorons they call "Customer Service Departments." In fact, these departments have nothing to do with customers or service. There's no customer hue and cry because for the most part, there's no one to complain to. Besides, most of the large companies we have in our lives are part of an oligopoly--so even if we could switch, customer service has been a steady race to the bottom. Everyone sucks.

In fact all these companies really do is shuffle you between surly subcontinent representatives and labyrinthine phone trees. We plug in our phone numbers, we're subjected to banal music and sales messages and long wait times. At the end of the morass, there's a 50-50 chance that your original issue was ever resolved.

I have a technique for dealing with ISP issues, or cable issues, or power issues or phone issues. It's wrong, but I do it.

I tell the reps that I have some kind of disfigurement that makes the restoration of the service I am paying for especially indispensable to me.

Just now my internet was working at "American infrastructure" speeds. Something about 50% slower than dial up.

I called Time-Warner. And finally after about twenty minutes of phone tree, I got a "customer service rep," from a land where my last name is considered unpronounceable.

I explained my problem.

And then I hit him right between the eyes.

"I need my service restored quickly," I said. "I have no arms or legs."

There was dead silence on the phone.

"The internet is the only way I stay connected with the world. I can't get food without the internet or communicate."

"Oh, Mr. Tafjwmnwifuuwm3mlkhdy, I am terribly sorry."

Despite their sorrow, they can't get anyone out to my apartment before Tuesday. Even though I am on something they call "Priority Priority."


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