It's a hate/hate relationship

I have had a hate/hate relationship with Nextel ever since I was in charge of a 50-phone account at My Former Company. Nextel hates me. I hate them. It's symbiotic.

It was very distressing to me a few years ago when Nextel announced plans to merge with Sprint, my cellphone carrier. I'd always received excellent customer service from Sprint and I was sure that the insidious apathy and flat-out mean-spiritedness that I'd encountered in my dealings with Nextel would eventually taint the alabaster halls of Sprint.

They got tainted, alright. Tainted with stupidity.

After the merger, Brett bought a new phone and wanted to swap his cell service onto the new phone. This was a procedure I'd performed literally hundreds of time in my stint as the Nextel Administrator for My Former Company. It was either very easy or very time consuming, depending on the experience level of the Nextel rep that answered the call. But, Brett had never had any problems swapping service through Sprint, so he was confident it would only take a few minutes.

In order to avoid being bothered by pesky customers like us who would just call and want stuff, the newly formed Sprint/Nextel cleverly changed their customer service number. Not only did they change it, but they kept the new one carefully hidden. It wasn't on any of our bills, nor was it on the website. We were kind of at a loss until Brett remembered that he could use a Sprint phone to get directly to customer service by dialing *611. (Or something like that. I can't remember what the code was exactly.) Knowing he would have to power the old phone and the new phone off for the swap, Brett wisely made this call using my cellphone.

It worked. He was connected with Anton, a highly-trained Sprint/Nextel customer service representative.

From the other room, I could hear Brett giving Anton the serial numbers and SIM codes from the old and new phone. Standard procedure, I thought. Then, I could hear Brett disagreeing with Anton and re-explaining what he wanted to do. More disagreeing, then more patient explaining. Then came louder disagreeing and less-than-patient explaining along with a hearty dose of frustration. I couldn't hear exactly what was going on, but Brett was obviously not getting his point across.

Because Brett had to leave soon, I offered to take over the call for him. He threw the phone at me and said, "Good luck getting that moron to understand a simple swap."

"It can't be that bad," I thought. "Maybe the guy just doesn't understand English very well. I've talked to a lot of people that I've had a hard time understanding, so I'm sure sometimes they feel the same way. I'll just try a little harder."

From Anton's first words, I could tell that he was as relieved to be rid of Brett as Brett was to be rid of him. I could not, however, detect anything in his speech that would indicate that English was not his primary language.

A: Phew. Okay, ma'am. Your husband said he would like to swap his service onto the new phone. I can assist you with that. Are you calling from a landline or a cellphone?

Me: I'm calling from a cellphone, but it's not the one we are going to be swapping.

A: Well, ma'am you're going to need to power off the phones, so I need you to call back from a landline.

Me: No, really. This is a totally different phone, totally different number. This phone I'm calling from won't be affected at all. But I have the old phone and the new phone both powered off, right now. Do you want me to turn them on?

A: I can't perform the swap if you are on a cellphone. I need you to call from a landline.

Me: Okaaaaaay. Why? What's going to happen if you try to swap the phones right now?

A: We'll get disconnected. I need the numbers from the back of the phone, behind the battery. The phone won't still work with the battery out, now will it?

Me: I'm not going to take the battery out of the phone I'm talking on. I would think I'd have to take it out of the phones involved in the swap, right?

A: No ma'am. All the batteries will have to be removed.

We went back and forth like this for about 10 minutes. When I realized that I wasn't going to convince him to change his mind, I gave up.

Me: Okay. I'll call back on a landline. Will you give me the number? It wasn't on the bill or on your website, so I don't know how to get back to you.

A: You don't need to speak with me personally. Any representative can help you. Just make sure to call back on a landline.

Me: I know I don't need to speak with you directly. But I don't have any customer service number to call. Do you have the 800-number for customer service?

A: You just call the same number you called before.

Me: Well, I used my cellphone to get to you. I just dialed *611.

A: You'll need to use a landline.

Me: That's my point. I can't dial *611 on a landline and get to customer service. What is the number I should call?

A: *exasperated* Just use your landline to call the same number.

Me: *more exasperated* No, that won't work. You need to give the number that should I dial.

A: The same one as you dialed before.

Me: Listen, the number I dialed was *611. If I dial that from my landline, it won't work. Give me a different number!

A: Um, I'm not understanding the problem here. You don't have a landline? Well, you might want to go to a neighbor's house then.

Me: *deep breath* Okay. Try to picture this. I'm walking to my home phone, my landline, my non-cellphone. I pick it up. I hear a dial tone. My pointer finger is poised, ready to dial. What number should I press on my telephone?

A: The same number as before.

Me: *another deep breath* Okay. The first number I pushed before was *, then 6, then 1, then another 1. Picture me pushing those numbers on my landline phone. Now what I hear on the other end of the phone is "doo Doo DOO! The number you dialed is not valid. Please check the number and try your call again." I CAN'T DIAL *611 ON THE LANDLINE AND REACH SPRINT/NEXTEL OR ANYONE ELSE! IT WON'T WORK!

A: Ahhh, of course not. You need to call the customer service number.

Me: YES! Ex-actly! Now tell me... what is the customer service number?

A: What do you mean? It's the same number. You're going to need to hang up and call back from a landline. Do you want me to hang up first? Is that what you are saying?

Me: No! If you hang up, I will never be able to call back on a landline, because I don't know what number to call! You must have a 800-number for customer service, yes?

A: Yes, of course. That's the number to call you need to call from your landline.

Me: Please, please, please... tell me what that number, that number that starts with 1-800, that number that will connect me with customer service from my landline, tell me what it is. I beg you. Please.

I don't know why, all of a sudden, Anton figured out what I was talking about. But, bless his poor idiotic heart, the lightbulb finally went on.

A: So, you don't have the customer service number? I think you do, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to call mein the first place. But, okay, let me get it for you again.

The ironic thing is that the number was something stupid like 800-GO-NEXTEL. If I had invested the 40 minutes I spent talking to Anton into dialing random numbers from my landline, I probably could have figured it out. Actually, the ironic thing is that Anton had to go look it up when, essentially, it is his phone number. Actually, the ironic thing is that it was probably all a practical joke and the mystery people who "monitor calls for quality assurance" were probably busting a gut. Actually, the ironic thing is that Anton probably won $5 for each minute he kept me on the phone.

Anton, I want my cut of that money, jerk.

Same call, different day

Her: This is Alice from careerbuilder.com. I need to speak to the person in charge of your hiring.

Me: What do you need, exactly?

Her: I need to speak to the person in charge of your hiring to tell him or her about the products and services we offer.

Me: We are not interested. Please put us on the "do not call" list.

Her: Can I ask why you are not interested?

Me: No. We just aren't. Please put us on the "do not call" list.

Her: Well, ma'am, who would it be that I could talk to about hiring in the future?

Me: No one. Because you are putting us on the "do not call" list, remember?

Her: *sigh* O-kaaaay. Thanks for your help.

Seriously people! I only have a small problem with you calling as long as you are polite and respectful and immediately responsive when I tell you not to call back. I have a huge problem when you think you are all hot stuff, like this lady, and figure that you can weasel more information out of me just because you are more well-spoken than the average telemarketer and I must just be a lowly receptionist who has been given a charge not to let telemarketers disturb the higher-ups but is incapable of making a decision about whether my company needs what you are selling.

Well, guess what sistah, unbeknownst to you, you did reach the person in charge of hiring and she told you in no uncertain terms to stuff it. And as the person in charge of hiring (and lady, if you really wanted to impress you might use a more professional term like "HR Specialist"... just a thought) I want to let you know that we will never, ever, ever use careerbuilder.com. Ever.

And no, you cannot ask why.

I'm not asking you to be *interested*...

The quality of telemarketing in the world today is rapidly reclining. Just now, I got this call:

TM: We'll be sending you out some information about tech support for your business. I need to verify the address.

Me: I'm sorry. We're not interested. Please take us off your list.

TM: Well, I'm not asking you to be interested. We'll be sending out some information about tech support for your business.

Me: Please, don't do that. We're not interested. Just take us off your list.

TM: Ma'am. You don't have to be interested. We'll be sending out some information about tech support for your business.

Me: *blink blink* You want to send me information for something I'm not interested in? Please, no. Just...take me off your list.

TM: *sigh* You don't have to be interested. We'll be sending out some information about tech support for your business. Is there someone else there I can talk to? A manager or someone? (acting like I'm the idiot)

Me: Well, I'm the office manager. I'm telling you to take our company name off your calling and mailing lists. It doesn't get more official than this.

TM: *sigh* I'll call back later. *click*

Gimme one good reason

A telemarketer called just now to "update their records."

I told him we had no interest in being updated and asked that he remove our company from their calling list.

"Yes, ma'am. I can certainly remove you from our list. I just need a good reason I should do so."

"Because I told you to."

*pause*

*pause*

*he waits for me to elaborate*

*pause*

*pause*

*pause*

*he is outsilenced by the master*

"Okay, ma'am. Uhhh...thank you for your time."

One I didn't win (for Shauna)

Many years ago when we were young and foolish, Brett and I made the mistake of trying out AOL. We'd been innundated with their FREE TRIAL OFFER CDs in the mail, at the supermarket, and in public restrooms. We had no reliable internet provider at the time so we repeatedly took full advantage of their 90-day offers, always making sure to cancel before we actually had to pay any money.

Right around the time we moved into our first house, a charge from AOL showed up on our credit card statement. We were too busy to check it out at the time but we figured we had neglected to cancel our current free account before the trial period expired. We promptly forgot about it until the next statement arrived and there was another $23.90 charge.

I called AOL to try to straighten things out. Little did I know it would be a rickety minecar ride into the bowels of hell.

I was connected with Rebecca (aka the Nefarious Troll Demon from the Planet Screwyou.) She was able to tell me that the account we were being charged for was not a current account but one that had been closed 6 months prior. I was able to give her the exact date that account had been closed and who I had talked to and a confirmation number.

She didn't like this one bit. I'm sure she was used to dealing with people who have nebulous stories about how they are sure the account was closed but can't remember any of the details. She probably was used to getting rough with those customers. But I clearly was not one of those people.

She didn't even try to hide her skepticism as she put me on hold to verify my ridiculous claim. When she returned, she said that the computer system didn't allow her to access records that far back. BUT, what she had discovered was that someone had reactivated the account since it had been closed, so clearly no refund would be forthcoming.

Hold on, Rebecca. "Someone" reactivated the account? Really? On April 9th? You don't say? Well, who was it?

She wouldn't tell me. She wouldn't tell me because I wasn't an authorized contact on the account. Well, who is an authorized contact? She can't tell me. She can't tell me because I'm not an authorized contact on the account.

The only other conceivable authorized contact is Brett. I drag him to the phone and have him add me as an authorized contact on the account. He specifically says to Rebecca, "I'm adding my wife, Andrea, as an authorized contact on this account. You are to discuss all matters relating to this account with her as freely as you would with me."

Newly empowered, I am back on the line with Rebecca, demanding the name of the scoundrel who reactivated the account.

"I can't tell you," she says coyly.

"YES, you can actually. I'm authorized now. Talking to me is like talking to Brett, remember?"

"You'll need to verify the phone number first."

"Okay, it's xxx-xxx-xxxx."

"No. That's not it."

"Yes. That's my phone number. I'm sure of it."

"Well, I need you to verify the phone number the person called from."

"??? How am I supposed to tell you what number some random person called from just so I can find out who that random person is? Look. Here's all the phone numbers we have, have had, and will have. Here's every single landline, cell phone, office phone and fax line that we might have called from." I rattled off eight or nine numbers.

"I'm sorry. None of those match. I can't give you any information. But the account was reactivated on April 9th, so the charges are valid and you will have to pay them."

The tone of her voice, which had previously been world-weary but brusque, drifted into smarmy triumph. She was getting a thrill watching me beat my head against the wall. I tried a different approach, one that might appeal to her human side.

"Alright, then. Now I'm concerned that someone is stealing my identity. Maybe you can help me track them down. When the account is being used, can you tell me where the person is logging in from? I'm in California so if they are logging in from South Dakota, I'll be able to let the police know."

"I can't tell you that."

"YES you can. I'm authorized on the account. Remember?"

*sigh* "There's no usage on the account, so there's no information."

"How odd. Are you telling me that since it was mysteriously reactivated on April 9th, no one has logged in?"

"Yes."

"So we've been paying for an account that we're not even using?"

"It appears so."

"Well, Rebecca, does that make sense to you? Why would we reactivate an account and then not use it? Not even for one solitary minute in the last two months?"

"I can't tell you that. What I can tell you is that this account was reactivated on April 9th..."

"By who?"

"... and that you are responsible whether or not anyone is using the account. You can't get out of paying this. There's absolutely nothing you can do to get the charges reversed."

I was soooo done with Rebecca and her attitude at this point. I asked to speak to her supervisor.

"My supervisor's not going to be able to help you. She can't do anything that I can't do. If I'm not going to reverse the charges, she won't either."

"I don't care what you say. Let me talk to her anyway."

"You can't talk to her. She's on break."

"Let me talk to any supervisor there. Your attitude and tone of voice are offending me. I want to speak to a supervisor, not only to resolve my issue, but to complain about you."

"There are no supervisors available. It's midnight on the East Coast. They've all gone home."

"I thought your supervisor was on a break."

"She was, then she went home. There's no one you can talk to."

"No supervisors? You have a whole call center full of reps and there's not ONE SINGLE SUPERVISOR on the whole floor?? I don't believe you. Let me talk to someone right now."

"No. There's no one who's going to help you."

"I don't care about that anymore. I want to let management know what a smarmy, self-centered, arrogant butt-head you are. Let me talk to someone else. ANYONE else. It doesn't have to be a supervisor. I just can't stand the sound of your voice anymore. Hand the phone to your co-worker if you have to."

"No. There's no one else here. They've all gone home. It's midnight here."

"YOU ARE SUCH A LIAR. I CAN HEAR OTHER PEOPLE TALKING AROUND YOU. YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY PERSON IN THE ENTIRE WORLD WORKING FOR AOL AND I DON'T CARE IF IT IS MIDNIGHT ON THE EAST COAST. LET ME TALK TO SOMEONE ELSE!!!!!!!"

"Ma'am, there's no need to shout. I can't just transfer you to another rep. You'll have to hang up and call back to get in the queue again."

"I HAD TO WAIT 40 MINUTES IN THE QUEUE JUST TO TALK TO YOU AND YOU ARE AN UNHELPFUL, MISERABLE, LYING PIECE OF GARBAGE! LET ME TALK TO SOMEONE ELSE!!!"

"There's no one who will help you."

This torture went on and on and on. This woman had worked me into such a foamy-mouthed craze that I was literally screaming into the phone at her. I think at one point I even repeatedly banged the receiver against the desk right in her ear. Brett had to intervene and insist that I hang up on her. It was hard because I was right and she was wrong and if I hung up, she won.

To preserve my sanity, I did finally hang up and call back. Would you believe that the next person I talked to (the other person working for AOL at midnight on the East Coast) didn't have any problem understanding or resolving the situation?

I had to write them a letter to close the account (again) and get credit. In the letter, I did my very best to get Rebecca fired.

This experience is the standard in our household of poor customer service. When I complain about inexperienced or unhelpful or stupid customer service reps, Brett will say, "But is it worse than AOL?"

No. The answer is always no.

Busted

The other day we received a bill for $77 from the company through which we purchased our trial timeshare in Mexico. The bill didn't indicate what we were being charged for but kindly suggested that we contact them if we had any questions. Their hours were from noon to 8:00 pm and since it was about 7:00, I thought I'd give them a ringy-ding right away to get the whole matter cleared up.

First, I heard the official automated voicemail, "We are experiencing high call volume...please hold for the next available agent." Then, without asking me, it transferred me directly into some one's voicemail. "This is Brenda, I'm not available to take your call..."

I'm skeptical when this happens, especially with a large company, because I believe that pretty much anyone can help me, and if I leave a message on one person's voicemail, I am putting all my eggs in one basket, so to speak. Plus, I really really wanted to know what this company was trying to charge me for.

So, I hung up and called back. I experienced different automated greetings, hold music, and menu selections than the first time, but I ended up in Brenda's voicemail again.

I wasn't really irritated, I just wanted to take care of it while it was convenient for me, and the convenient time for me was RIGHT NOW.

So, I called back. And I called back. And I called back. And back. And back. And back and back and back and back and back. I must have called 40 times in the space of 10 minutes.

What do you know? It worked. I reached the lovely and talented Brenda in person. She was very professional and very nice. She asked for my name and membership number.

"Just one moment while my system retrieves your file. Okay, thanks for holding... Oh I see you've called a couple of times this evening..."

A couple of times. She even managed to say it without a hint of irony in her voice.

Busted. Go ahead and say it Brenda, "You're a freak." I know.

You rang?

I'm usually pretty decent to telemarketers, at home and at the office. I know that even if you don't buy what they are selling, sometimes they get a commission just for completing a call. So, if I have the time, I might listen to their spiel before politely replying, "I'm not interested. Please take me off your list." Most of the time, this it met with an equally polite response from the telemarketer and I never hear from that company again.

Occasionally a telemarketer will use a more aggressive sales script. Chet described this to me as the "c'mon three times" script. After the first rejection, the telemarketer offers a previously unmentioned extra benefit. Like, "Well, I understand, but for those who sign up right now we are offering a 90-day free trial of our product." This is akin to a child whose playmate tells him there's no way he's eating that bug, saying, "Awww, c'mon." So after three objections and three rounds of "c'mon", the telemarketer gives up.

There's a whole new breed of telemarketer emerging, though. The I've-put-up-with-enough-crap-and-now-it's-your-turn breed. This breed doesn't care if he sells you squat. He just wants to get back at the world.

Two examples of unusual telemarketing calls I've received:

Apu: Ma'am I am calling on behalf of Dish Network. We are offering special rate for limited time...

Me: You know what, I'm not interested. Thank you.

Apu: Ma'am, please to not be interrupting me. Who is your current satellite provider?

Me: Uhhhh...really. I'm not interested.

Apu: Ma'am, please to be letting me finish. Who is your current satellite provider?

Me: Uhhh... we don't have one. We don't have TV service at all.

Apu: Ma'am? You have no TVs in your home?

Me: No. We just don't watch TV. That's why I'm not interested.

Apu (clearly confused, returning to the beginning of his script): Ma'am, please listen carefully. I am calling on behalf of Dish Network...

He probably didn't realize that by interrupting him I was really just trying to save him some time. Ungrateful.

Then there was this one at work:

Britney (with a very Britney Spears accent): This is Britney and I'm calling on behalf of *insert company* to show you how your company can save money on *insert product or service.*

Me: I'm sorry, we don't accept phone solicitations.

Britney: What? What does that mean?

Me: It means we don't buy products or services from people who solicit business over the phone.

Britney (spluttering with anger): Well... well... uhhh.. why not? I mean, I'm an American. It's not like I'm calling from... from.... INDIA or something. I work hard every day and you can't just say you don't buy stuff over the phone. I got to support my kids and I'm an American... and... and... I'm a decent person and I have kids ... and I'm not from India.. and... and

Me: Ok. Please put me on your do not call list.

I can't really recreate the tone of her voice. She was not desperate or pleading. She was flat-out angry with a hearty helping of entitlement mixed in. She felt like I had to buy what she was selling because she was an American and wasn't calling from India.

Has it come to that? Are people really out there buying things just because the salesperson has done speaked some goodly proper English?

From now on, I'm only buying from people who have Australian accents. Because platypuses come from Australia. End of story.

Is that your final answer?

Phone solicitation forwarded to me at work today:

Him: I'm trying to get ahold of the decision maker for your AT&T long distance account.

Me: That's me.

Him: Are you the FINAL decision maker?

Me: That depends. What do you need?

Him: I need to talk to the FINAL DECISION maker for your AT&T long distance account. Is that you?

Me: That depends on what kind of FINAL DECISION needs to be made.

Him: Ma'am, if you were the FINAL DECISION MAKER it wouldn't matter what decision needs to be made.

*click* (he hangs up on me)