Coffee and Cigarettes - Not Just for Breakfast Anymore

Yesterday a friend was telling me how she spent her entire morning on the phone with her internet company because her service had been going down constantly. Hehehe, I said "going down constantly". The customer service representative she was speaking to had her crawling all over the floor following wires, pushing her desk around the room to check for who knows what, and tearing into her computer - all in the name of trying to keep the repairmen from making a wasted trip. After a few hours of sweating, torture, and listening to horrifying muzak while on hold - the rep came back to tell her that there was a line problem on the street. My friend, in the most polite way she could manage, told the girl to do something that I believe is not only physically impossible - but may be illegal in most southern states. Yet another example of the crappy customer service this country is now subjected to on a daily basis. I used to cringe when faced with the prospect of dialing the dreaded 800 number. However, I have found the way to get what you want from these disembodied voices on the phone - these spawns of Satan whose primary job is to shred our spirit and trample on our dreams! I know the way! It works! Oh yes it does. Read on.

Several years ago I had a major issue with MCI - oh how I celebrated when they went bankrupt. It's a long story - it always is - and I don't really want to share all the gory details with you all - which I'm sure you're grateful for - but the upshot is they were sending me bills and I was no longer using their service. For months they kept sending me bills, and for months I would call and try to explain that the service had been canceled. Management would never get on the phone. The reps were less than articulate. I clearly remember listening to one girl cracking her gum while I talked. I fantasized about reaching through the line and ripping her throat out. Nobody would straighten this matter out - they just kept telling me to pay. Now I don't remember how much it was - probably not much - but I'll be fucked if I'm going to pay some billion dollar corporation money that it hasn't earned.

After a few months of this playful game of cat and mouse, I got a fairly threatening letter from MCI regarding this matter. I serenely picked up the phone and called the 800 number. I asked for a manager. No manager. I hung up. I called again. And again. And again. And again. Each time I explained the situation and asked for a manager. Each time they said there was none available. Then I would hang up and do it again. Finally one of the reps said to me. "I'm noticing on the computer that you have called several times today, maybe I should get a manager." Gee, ya think?

After putting me on hold for half of All My Children, I finally got a manager on the line. The first thing she said to me was, "I've read your file. I'm not really sure what you expect here."

I was calm. I was cool. I was collected. And in my sweetest and most condescending voice, I responded with the magic words that I am now going to share with all of you -

"Listen love - here is what I expect. I'm not going to pay this bill. I know you think I am going to, but I'm not. Do you know why? Because you are going to wipe it out. And you are going to wipe it out now. Do you know why you're going to wipe it out? Because if you don't, I am going to call again. And again. And again. And again. I will call you every five minutes if I have to - and you have no choice but to take my calls because A. - I now know your name and B. - that is your job. And in case you think I'm exaggerating, understand this - I have a pot of coffee, a pack of cigarettes, and nothing else to do today. I can do this all day. And I can do it again tomorrow too. In fact, I'm off all week. So let's say you get rid of this bill and spare yourself a world of pain."

My bill was wiped out. I never heard from MCI again. And everyone lived happily ever after.

The End.

Someday you'll all thank me for this post.