We’ve all been there. Aggravated by a company or their customer service, or lack there of. It’s a helpless feeling, really. I’m speaking specifically about the demon company, Verizon. I have only satanic adjectives for the devil cell service.
My story starts with an online purchase of a new cell phone for my 12 year old son. Now before you go all “too young for a kid, it’s your own fault” attitude, my son is paying for this phone. A new iPhone 5s to be exact. I big $200 new line cell phone with a $50 a month charge for having it.
I’m attempting to make an online transaction while “online chatting” with Verizon to walk me through the process to answer any questions that I might have about features. I was informed via chat that although the screen says “2-day shipping”, the phone will be shipped overnight. For free. Long story short, the purchase didn’t take place that day, it took place the very next day. Again, I “chatted” with Verizon while completing the purchase asking AGAIN about the shipping. AGAIN I was informed of the “free overnight shipping change” just as soon as I pressed the “complete purchase” tab. So I press that tab. I feel confident that Verizon chat customer service could not possibly be wrong. I feel accomplished. I prepare for the euphoric excitement that my son will experience when he finally gets to open his brand new, not a lame-ass tracfone – phone and prepares to become one of the millions of cell phone users addicted to this little device that has completely changed how just about EVERYONE lives and breathes. I’m almost exhausted saying that. I’ll bet there’s an app for that.
It’s the evening of my purchase now, and of course I’m checking my facebook, instagram, twitter and email when I see a Verizon email — shipment notification. I hear a symphony of tones in my head equivalent to the sounds you hear entering a casino. Until I read the email and track my shipment. Expected delivery: Monday, March 10, 2014.
What? Purchased online on March 6 before noon, overnight is March 7. March 10th is 2 day shipping. Nooooooo.
I call customer service. I hear, “we’re experiencing longer than normal call volume, we’ll be with you shortly”. And I wait. 14 minutes to be exact. That’s a long time, but I’m able to put my phone on “speaker” so I can do other things.
I finally get to speak to someone from customer service. I don’t get his name, cause I’m mad. I tell him my dilemma and he’s unsympathetic, at best. I’ll call him Mr. Radio Station Voice. After a conversation with very little compassion and a whole bunch of him talking over me, I realize I’m getting nowhere. By the way, it’s a huge red flag when the person on the other end of the line is talking over you. That person has no intention of giving in. That “I’m always right and you’ll always be wrong person”. I should have just thrown up the white flag screaming “I give” and let him have his paltry 2 day free shipping. I should have just bent over and taken it up the proverbial ass, because that’s exactly where he wanted to give it to me. But I didn’t, I ask to speak with a supervisor. And then I hear what everyone fears the most when taking this drastic step to get some kind of empathy from a complete stranger. “I AM the supervisor”.
All the blood drains from my head, my heart starts beating double time and I can feel the veins protruding from my neck as I try to plead my case to a man lacking cell phone service compassion. My voice raises ever so slightly as I stress every syllable in my pathetic attempt to get free activation (a $35 charge for a new cell activation).
As I start to realize I’m speaking to deaf ears, because all Mr. Radio Station Voice hears is “blah, blah, blah”, I blurt out, “fine, tell me how much I’ll need to pay to cancel my contract”. Never skipping a beat, Mr. Asshole, (my new name for him) says, “sure, I can do that”, to which there’s a few short seconds of silence and then quiet. I’m thinking he’s a dick and he’s putting me on hold while he goes to get a snack a few floors down from his office and he’ll be back in about 5 minutes. I was wrong. He disconnects me. He’s done with the conversation. He doesn’t care about my problems. He doesn’t want to find solutions. My pleas fall on deaf blah blah blah ears
OH NO HE DIDN’T! I redial that damn 800 number and wait. And wait. And wait. I wait for exactly 34 minutes. The reason I know that is because my lovely iPhone 4s tells me how long I’ve been waiting. In the meantime I’m trying to chat with someone from Verizon on my phone, on my tablet and on my desktop. I’m a victim of technology. I desperately want someone that I’m chatting with to again tell me that it’s an automatic overnight delivery, when I’m finally at the head of the phone cue and get Jordan, a very nice rep that only apologizes over and over to me as they are taught to do in customer service school. And all I hear is blah blah blah.
I try to get the name of the person I was talking to prior to Jordan. “How long ago did you speak with someone” Jordan asks? Exactly 34 minutes, Jordan. 34 vicious minutes. I wonder to myself if Mr. Asshole somehow set my subsequent phone call up that way. That he somehow had super Verizon power that could red flag my phone number and push me to the very back of the que to make me suffer. Hey, it’s a distinct possibility, right? I mean we are talking about one of the Prince of Darknesses worker bees after all.
I’m sorry, this is not a long story short. This is a long story LONGER. The end result is that I’m not getting the phone until Monday. Verizon makes promises they don’t keep just to stop you from going to the Apple store to purchase your phone. They won’t credit your account for all the pain and suffering you’ve felt due to not having your phone as promised. You cannot call a “supervisor’s” supervisor, they don’t exist. You cannot email the company. They don’t care. The company is so big that if you threaten to leave, their all, “blah blah blah”, good riddance. And sure you can leave, for a $270 early cancellation fee, you can high tail it outta there and join a new cellular service plan. You won’t be able to use the “Verizon” phone that you purchased a little while ago for another family member, because that phone is only good with that particular plan.
My son will be devastated having to wait until Monday. He can’t text his friends. And I’m all “blah blah blah”.