I live in an area of the city (and I do mean IN THE CITY) where my internet choices are only two; satellite, or the local cable provider — which has a name similar to Cuntass, or Failfast, or Bombast? Somethin like that. It’s hard to remember, really, what with so many other things in my head…
We had the local cable company over a decade ago. It was no prize then, considering when we moved, it took them four months to resolve our bills.
No payment due.
Your payment is past due.
Charge for local channels.
Removal of local channel charges.
Here’s a check.
It took many, many phone calls to make sure they understood we no longer lived there, we no longer used them, we no longer owed them, won’t you please stop billing and / or crediting our account and just close it?
Yeah. So this time, I opted for the satellite gig. But the nice man came out, and told us that our neighbor’s tree is in the way, we’d need him to top it, or we could cut about twenty feet from the top of our own majestic maple.
It was, as True said, “tragic shit.”
So I was forced, by my desire to have
social media and funny cat videos internet, to call our local cable provider, which everyone knows has shit customer service. It’s a monopoly. Even if you can avoid them for television services, they’ll get you for internet and phone. They’ve got us all …well, you know.
Now, I do not despise our local cable provider enough to spend my time creating memes, but I did find some memes that other people created about their local cable companies, and I think whatever happened to their creators, well, it was probably worse than our inane billing problems.
When I caved to the monopoly and called Bombast (or whatever it is) on the afternoon of Tuesday the third, the man on the other end of the line gave me an installation date of Thursday the fifth. Then I gave the phone to The Mister, so he could set up our phone book information. The man from Bombast (or whatever) gave us a phone number and a confirmation number, which The Mister logged into the notes section of his phone.
On Wednesday the fourth, a new man from Bombast (or whatever) called us to say that he would need to move our installation to the eleventh. OMFG. The eleventh?
Two hours, we both spent on the phone, alternating in our rage, trying to get someone who understood why this was absolutely unacceptable.
By the time we got the third person on the phone, you just won’t even believe what had happened — Our order had been deleted.
No order, no confirmation number, no telephone number — it was like we had never called.
The Mister believes this was done in malice, as he was perhaps, unkind to a supervisor…
So I was obligated to tell Shirley, who is apparently their only smart and reasonable service rep, “Shirley, you do know everyone hates Bombast?” (or whatever it’s called.) “You know it’s well-known for its despicable customer service, right? This is why.”
Shirley was, of course, very sorry.
Shirley and all of her sympathy could not possibly touch the lowest level of my frustration. She gave me a new phone number and a new confirmation number.
Our internet works speedily. I do look forward to the day when the competition moves in, because once again, we’ll hafta break-up with Bombast (or whatever it’s called.) On the one hand, it will be a more pleasant experience, and then on the other hand, they never seem to take the rejection well. It’s a bit like that time when that guy you dated kept callin you, textin you, and drivin by your house, even though you slept with his brother, his father AND his best friend. Despite all that, he was completely convinced you were the one for him.