That is the title of the new book I’m writing about our lifelong struggle with an address change fiasco and our debit card nightmare. Every time a new frustrating glitch arises in our lives due to these two events that began in the summer of 2015, I think, “This HAS to be the last time.” And then no. I have another blog story to tell.
This one MIGHT take the cake. It is still not resolved. I am still hopeful. I am a diehard optimist. You have to be in these situations.
We switched our internet service from Cox to Century Link in 2013, however, we decided to keep paying $9.99/month for my email address at Cox because I have used it for 11 years and it is printed on the back of my books, on business cards, receipts, bookmarks, etc., etc., etc.
Last week I was not able to log on to my email account and the page read, “This account is closed. Please contact us.” WHAT? So I called, because it told me to and I obey the rules (if they are not stupid, in my humble opinion!)
After only a four minute hold, I was able to speak with a kind lady who read her script well… I almost couldn’t tell she was reading scripts. I refrained from asking how long she had had this job, because I’m nice and I needed her help. (My guess was one week!)
Guess! Just guess what she asked for first to verify my account??? YEP! My address. Somehow I knew this was not going to be the walk in the park I was hoping for. Thinking quickly that this account was opened three years ago, I gave our Arizona address where we have lived for 11 years. Nope. Wrong. Then I gave the Oklahoma address where our mail went for two months where we have never lived. Nope. Wrong. WHAT? She replied, you know, like I’m stupid and don’t know my address, “Have you lived anywhere else?” This account has only been open for three years…. I lived in this house that I am sitting in this very moment. So I gave the address of the house we lived in before 11 years ago. Yep. Oh my stars.
Okay, at least they gave me three tries. That was nice of her, although the script probably said, “After their third attempt, hang up on this moron.”
Next she proceeded to tell me that we missed a payment in October 2015. (This is August 29, 2016) I calculated back and yes, that was about the time of the first dumb debit card problem. I kindly asked why they didn’t inform us. She said they would have sent a letter. Great! It probably went to Oklahoma.
She said we acquired a late fee, plus we missed payments in November and December, both with late fees. I commented that we would have paid these, had we known about them. Then came my favorite part… they sent the account to collections, which we have never heard from. After that they closed the account. THAT would have been pertinent information to share with a customer, quite possibly through the avenue of the email account that was with their company. But no.
My email account was working all this time… until last week, August 24th, when I could no longer log on. (This saved my husband, Mr. Wallet, over $110!)
I was still remaining under control with my nice mom voice on. (That surprised even me!) At that point I inquired how I could get my email account back. Pausing, while searching her script for this question, she finally retorted, “We don’t have email accounts anymore that aren’t associated with our internet service.” A small swear word went through my mind, which is not like me at all. Thankfully it didn’t come out of my mouth. She then went to section 27 of her script and asked, “Would you like me to get you set up with internet service? But you would not be able to use the previous email address.”
At that point, I lost it. I laughed…. hard. Right in her ear. (Just like the picture!) When I was eventually able to speak, I asked her, “Why in the world would any customer come back to your company who has just shut down my personal email without contacting me, sent me to collections, and tell me that I need to go back to paying for your crappy internet service just to have an email account?” She paused. I don’t think she could find the word CRAPPY in her script. She stuttered, she spat, she slowly responded, “I’m just reading the script, Ma’am.” I laughed hard in her ear again. It was that guttural laugh that the Joker cackles on Batman like he is possessed or some such nonsense.
“Has any customer ever said yes to coming back?” I probed. Obviously that question wasn’t on the script either. Long pause. ….. I wondered if she had fallen and couldn’t get up. I finally told her that I appreciated how patient she was finding my account but that she could help me no further that evening. And we hung up as friends.
Oh, it’s not over. Stay tuned for parts 2 and 3. (Part 3 hasn’t even happened yet, but it’s coming because of how Part 2 went down.)
My Sister's Jar 