I should’ve stopped after the words “rant.” I should’ve taken a deep breath and realized that what follows will almost certainly not be quality writing. I should take a sip of some chamomile tea and do a headstand and say a few OMs and then go for a crisp walk around the block. But that’d be un-writer-ly of me, just as it was unwriterly of me to make up a stupid adverb (“The road to hell is paved with adverbs.” -Stephen King).
So I’ll turn this frustration into a post, which will likely look something like a long list of complaints about Verizon Wireless, AKA the company that has robbed me of my precious time and sanity the past five years. Not to mention my money. To be fair, I have great cell reception, so I guess I have to thank them for that? However, dealing with VZW is like dealing with the shitty roommate you never wanted in the first place. On one hand, more people = lower rent, which is great but then he moves in some weird UV-B sun device because he wants to be Spiderman or fight of “seasonal affected disorder” or something. He told you but you were too busy cutting a hangnail to listen, and suddenly you’re repulsed at the sight of his pale body absorbing blue rays in the living room. You are also acutely aware that he hasn’t told you how much electricity (that shit ain’t free!) the machine is using up, anyway.
Back to Verizon. My sweet, elderly grandmother is the owner of our family account. This is great because she foots the bill. This is not great because VZW is an old person’s nightmare (for proof, watch this skit by Bill Hader & Fred Armisen). So I recently became a “manager” on her account. Does this grant me any right to talk to a representative when I have a problem? You bet it doesn’t. My grandmother is notorious for changing passwords on a whim–she heard on The Today Show that China is working to get the password of every 65+ phone subscriber, and the best way to combat this is to change your password bimonthly and never write them down–so every time I try to call and reach someone at VZW it goes something like this:
Rep: Hello, thank you for using Verizon Wireless. Can I have your name and account password?
Me: Yes, Persephone Fitzgerald. MRF7875
Rep: I’m sorry, that password is incorrect.
Me: Ok, how about: Peach1589
Rep: I’m sorry, ma’am, that password is incorrect.
Me: Listen, lady, I just want to cancel an order I placed.
Rep: I’m sorry, that has too many letters.
Me: No, I wasn’t stating my password.
Rep: Ma’am, I cannot talk to you without knowing your password.
Me: What the hell do I pay $200/month for then?
Rep: Ms. Fitzgerald, I’m sorry you feel that way.
Me: What way? Frustrated? Because you don’t have a way for me to cancel orders online?
Rep: Oh, you would like to cancel an order?
Rep: All right, well you’ve dialed the wrong number. This is Verizon Fios for businesses.
Me: Then why did the website say for me to call you at this number?
Rep: I’ll transfer you now.
About 90 seconds of music, then the operator’s voice saying “The number you dialed is incorrect. Please hang up and try your call again.” Rinse and repeat…and repeat and repeat until you can get someone on the other line.
I literally cannot stand it. All I wanted was to cancel an order on a cell phone case. That’s all. After hanging up, infuriated and dissatisfied, those jerks had the nerve to call me and ask me to fill out a customer service survey. I wish I had taken it, but airing my frustrations would just be white noise in the face of this corporate giant.