A lit-tle too clever for my own good…
When they get wind I’ve left the country, my credit card companies will cut me off. I had to have cards to get here — there were a thousand little, and not so little, moving expenses that wouldn’t take cash — so I didn’t let on. I’ve paid my bills online for years, I figured. I’ll call up from the UK, get my final balance and cancel the account from the warm safety of the Fortress of Solitude, I figured.
Ha! Guess what? 1-800 numbers don’t work from outside the US! Well, they sort of do. They work part way. They string you along. They tease.
You know what it’s like to punch in a boring twelve-digit account number and wend your boring way through all the boring choices in a modern boring automated phone system? Well, imagine you had to poke in twenty digits to get in, and a dial tone cut you off at some random point in the process.
You think this post is boring?
Ummm…you’re right, actually.
Posted: December 3rd, 2008 under britain, business, moving, personal.
Comments: 25
Comments
Comment from porknbean
Time: December 3, 2008, 8:28 pm
Have your stepmom pretend she is you to get the balance.
Comment from Uncle Badger
Time: December 3, 2008, 8:33 pm
One day I will find the creature that invented voice gates…
I operated a policy of refusing to do business with companies that ran them for several years. I lost. In the end all the bastards did.
Badger’s Inverse Law of Voice Gates states: The degree of inefficiency of a company is inversely proportional to its avowed high-techiness. It is even more inversely related to its pronouncements about ‘customer service’.
In other words, your local haberdasher, run by two little old ladies with pen and ink for an IT department is 10,000 times easier to deal with than HighTekPanGlobalMegaCorpInc.
May they all rot in hell.
Please?
Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 3, 2008, 8:37 pm
I got balances eventually, PnB. Mostly by signing up for online bill-pay. But I couldn’t cancel or change address.
Actually, I can probably change address…which will probably trigger cancel. But by the time I’d gotten that far tonight, I had had ENOUGH.
Comment from Dave in Texas
Time: December 3, 2008, 9:12 pm
If you don’t mind giving me the account numbers and your SSN I can take care of this shit for you.
Happy to help.
Comment from porknbean
Time: December 3, 2008, 11:41 pm
May they all rot in hell.
Okay, so I was at Macy’s yesterday at the fine jewelry counter wanting to purchase a gold pendant. The salesperson was with another customer and by the conversation, he was going to have her attention for quite awhile. After some minutes have passed, I go to another counter and ask the salesgirl there if she can help me since the one lady was and has been busy with Mr. Talk-about-every-friggin-pieceness. The girl tells me that they are not allowed at that counter and it looks like the other person who worked that counter was at lunch. I look around and every other counter had salespeople with no customers and not a one could help me out.
I says, ‘So Macy’s would rather lose a customer than have one of you sell me something at the more expensive fine jewelry counter.’ She says, ‘Sorry, thems the rules.’
So, I wait some more minutes, then head downstairs to lodge a complaint at customer service, who called the manager of the department down to help me.
She tells me that customers are not aware that the fine jewelry counters are rented out by a company and are not affiliated to Macy’s, so their costume jewelry people are not allowed to ring up anyone due to some regulatory/company..blah..blah..blah….
I tell her that I get it and in a nice way tell her that as a customer at Macy’s I really don’t care who owns the counter and feel it reflects badly on their service.
She said that she, as a manager, could help me out if I wanted, but I thanked her and passed on the offer since I already waited 20 minutes at the counter and I was ready to leave.
How much you wanna bet the guy who took up so much of the saleslady’s time wound up not buying anything either?
I’m not gonna shop much this year. One or two more items at the local discount retail for the daughter and I’m done. Everyone else – gift cards or cash (the son), or handmade (yes, I’m handy).
Comment from apotheosis
Time: December 3, 2008, 11:47 pm
One ringy-dingy…two ringy-dingy.
Comment from scubafreak
Time: December 4, 2008, 12:35 am
Well, if you don’t want to deal with Credit Cards anymore, you could always help me make up the words for the ballad of Schroedingers testicles. 12 hours and counting until snip time. 🙁
Comment from Brigette Russell
Time: December 4, 2008, 1:33 am
Yeah, it’s boring. One more like this and you’re off my damn blogroll.
Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 4, 2008, 7:53 am
Pff! Wuss! I can be FAR more boring than this — I’m just getting warmed up! I’m considering posting about the plumbing today. Fasten your seatbelts…
Ah, poor lad, Scuba. I’m afraid I shot my wad (so to speak) with Damien’s Jaunty Balls. Damien wasn’t the least little bit perturbed by loss of same, though. He came home, tumbled out of the box, beat up Charlotte, ate her food and collapsed in the center of the bed like the Sultan of Brunei.
Comment from Gibby Haynes
Time: December 4, 2008, 8:11 am
What this post lacks in excitement is more than made up for by that weasel-chewed rotary telephone. So what does bakelite taste like anyway?
Comment from wendyworn
Time: December 4, 2008, 9:59 am
Just dont pay it Weas. What are they going to do? You have already fled the country. I say success!
Comment from Princess Bernie
Time: December 4, 2008, 10:59 am
My Wonderful Guy is extremely impatient when having to deal with telephone business issues and has learned to let me make the phone calls now.
Case in point: satellite service died. He calls and gets the tele-voodoo system and then a live person who will not deviate from the checklist. He hangs up and waits a couple of days and can’t stand it any more. So I call to handle it. We were just married and I was not yet added to the account and therefore not authorized to speak to them. They wanted to speak to the hubby – I point blank told them that I would hand the phone to hubby long enough to get permission for me to talk to them but it was in their best interest to speak to me rather than him.
They figured that out very quickly when I handed the phone to hubby. I took it back and said, “I told you so.”
Comment from Brigette Russell
Time: December 4, 2008, 11:53 am
If so, they’ve probably changed his name to Scooby Dee or something.
Comment from Gibby Haynes
Time: December 4, 2008, 12:02 pm
Na, it’s still Scooby Doo. We don’t change everything.
Comment from iamfelix
Time: December 4, 2008, 1:14 pm
“Voice gates” sounds faaarrrrr too nice. “VM Hell” is getting closer to reality. I quite like “tele-voodoo,” though. And I’ve been meaning to say that I *really* like the Her Maj graphic — Good ‘un, Stoaty.
Comment from Princess Bernie
Time: December 4, 2008, 1:48 pm
iamfelix, I just made that up on the spur of the moment, and you may use it freely, of course.
Comment from Jill
Time: December 4, 2008, 2:05 pm
Scuba, feel free to appropriate the partial jingle my late-great ex-fiancee wrote about his vasectomy:
“Oh there’s a vaaaaaaaaaast difference in my vaaaaaaaaaas deferens…”
Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 4, 2008, 5:35 pm
I seem to remember one of the Young Ones was a fan of Scooby Doo.
Comment from S. Weasel
Time: December 4, 2008, 5:46 pm
Also, I can’t be the only one who remembers Scooby Dum and the egregious Scrappy Doo.
Umm…please?
Comment from dfbaskwill
Time: December 4, 2008, 7:58 pm
The obnoxious Scrappy Doo! The miserable nephew of the Scoob himself.
Comment from harbqll
Time: December 5, 2008, 12:16 am
I believe it was Neil.
And I thought I was the only person who knew who the Young Ones were…
Comment from Andrea Harris
Time: December 5, 2008, 3:34 am
Damien’s Jaunty Balls… OMG I am laughing so hard I can barely type this.
Comment from Brigette Russell
Time: December 5, 2008, 7:30 pm
Nope, you’re not the only one who remembers Scrappy. Ah, the cartoons of my youth. Felix the Cat, Mighty Mouse, Underdog and — here’s one nobody remembers — Krazy Kat. And of course I can still practically hear Goliath saying, “I don’t know, Davy…”
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