Tuesday, December 15th, 2009
Yesterday, I decided, having been back in the country three months now, I should register with a doctor. I don’t really get sick and I actually kind of hate doctors, but on the off chance that my lungs fall out or something, I figured I should be on the books somewhere.
I thought, I’ll call, they’ll take a few details over the phone and make an appointment for me. Well, you already know that was wishful thinking. I was greeted with a pre-recorded message and several menu options.
Explain to me the need for menu options. I’m calling a doctors office, not the White House. ‘Press 1 for Prescriptions, Press 2 for Appointments, Press 3 for Emergencies, Press 4 for Home Visits…’ It went on, for a total of 7 menu options. By the time it’d finished, I’d forgotten what I was calling for in the first place. There was one possibly fatal flaw though with this particular menu; why the hell was ‘emergencies’ number three on the list? If it’s an emergency, the last thing I want to do is fanny about trying to navigate your ridiculous menu options. Emergency, by it’s very nature, one would think, would surely clinch the top spot in a telephone menu!
What I find even more amusing about their menu optioned phone system, is I don’t care what doctor’s office you go to in the world, there’s always a maximum of two miserable bitches working reception. You mean to tell me, between them, they couldn’t just answer the phone and ask you what you want? Bitch please!
So I press any random button and get through to a very unenthusiastic woman who then tells me I have to actually physically go to the surgery, fill in some forms and then they’ll give me an appointment. I wish I’d pressed the emergency button to see if this process would be any quicker.
I was already pissed that I was forced to actually pick up a phone and call these people. Why is there no ‘registration’ button available on their website. Jesus, what decade is it? I have to pick up the phone, then go in there and fill out paper forms using, like, ink and stuff?
Maybe I should wait until my lungs are actually falling out – perhaps then the process will be a little quicker.
Tags: doctors, phones, useless people
Posted in life | 10 Comments »
Tuesday, April 14th, 2009
I don’t talk to anyone anymore. There’s so much Facebook and Twittering in my life, I have so few actual conversations, it’s getting a little scary.
This revelation occurred to me recently; when my phone rings, I nearly jump out of my skin. I have all but forgotten what it sounds like. But the popcorn sound that Facebook instant chat makes? It’s like Pavlov’s dogs – I can hear it a mile away and I get to typing like a fiend. And the text message alert on my phone? Oh yeah, that works just fine. God forbid anyone pick up the phone to arrange a lunch, let’s go back and forth with a million texts to figure out the time and place. That makes much more sense.
But I’m as guilty of that as the next person. Now if someone does actually call me, I wrestle internally before answering – is this not a conversation we can have via text? Do we have to exchange real life human voice words? That seems like such a hassle. And it will distract me from the myriad of Facebook chat conversations I’m involved in at any given time.
Maybe it’s time I embraced phone technology once again. You know, actually dialing numbers (well, not so much dialing, as scrolling through my contacts list and hitting the ‘OK’ button) and talking to people. Wait, is that going to lead to me actually having to see people? This is all moving a bit too fast. I need to regroup. I’m getting sweaty palms.
Tags: facebook, paging the real world, phones
Posted in life | 3 Comments »
Monday, October 13th, 2008
This weekend was Thanksgiving (I don’t know why we have it in October. I sense it’s because Canadians feel an intense need to do everything before Americans, to prove some kind of point. I’m surprised they haven’t bumped up the birth of Christ to get in there before the Yanks too).
After a few days of being knocked out with a cold, I was looking forward to a feast. We’d organised a pot luck at my friend’s house. I went over there early to cook my scallop potatoes (which, in case your wondering, kick some serious tater ass). Over the course of the day, stragglers came through with their dish of choice and around 8pm, we all sat down to a righteous feed.
Thirty minutes later, we had inhaled any food stuff in sight and lay semi-passed out in the living room. As the night wore on, my cold started to get worse. I was feeling congested and gross and figured it was time for me to peace out and get some rest. It was 10pm when I left and was humid out, but I wrapped up nonetheless. I unlocked my bike and it fell over. Great start. I struggled to pick it up, gathered myself and got on for my twenty minute ride home. I don’t have a helmet and haven’t put lights on my bike yet – oh, I like to live on the edge my friends.
Any sort of physical exercise is tough when you have a cold. I was wheezing like an 80 year old man. I finally made it home and scared the crap out of myself when I looked in the mirror. The humidity had brought my Irish girl afro out in full effect. I was suffocating myself. I waded through my hair and made it upstairs, only to realise my phone was missing.
I had a flash back to my bike falling over when I unlocked it and imagined my poor phone must be wallowing in the grass somewhere over by my friend’s house. I then had a glimpse into my future of going to the phone shop to attempt to get a new one. I don’t need that drama – the less I have to do with my cell phone company, the better. I had no choice. I would have to cycle back over there and hope some passerby hadn’t stolen it already. I threw my hair up into Bangs and a Bun (what’s that? Shameless self promotion? You betcha!) and went on my way.
By the time I got there, I had snot running down my face and needed CPR. I hurled my bike to the ground and got on my hands and knees in the grass to track down my phone. Luckily, it was there. I called my friend, told her to look out the window and told her the whole story. She found it quite hilarious, probably because she had the misfortune of having the visual to go with it.
Clearly, this unexpected expedition hasn’t done much for my cold. It’s now moved down to my chest and I sound like a sex chat line operator. I may have to use that to my advantage for the next couple of days. It’s a recession dammit! I gotta do what I gotta do!
Tags: bikes, food, more food, phones
Posted in life | 6 Comments »
Monday, September 15th, 2008
My phone broke. I have a phone that has a slide out QWERTY keyboard. The QWERTY key pad worked, but the one on the front decided it’d had enough. None of the keys worked. Well, that’s not strictly true – the 5 button worked, but since I don’t know anyone with a phone number consisting solely of 5s, that’s a bit redundant.
So, yesterday I took it back to the phone shop where they replaced my dud phone with a ‘refurbished’ model.
‘I don’t get a new one?’ I asked.
‘It’s refurbished,’ said the devoid-of-all-personality sales rep.
‘So, it’s busted is what you’re saying.’
‘Was busted,’ he corrected.
‘Great.’
‘Or maybe just someone didn’t want it and brought it back.’ This phone just went from being busted to being an orphan within a few seconds.
The rep faffed around with the new phone for a minute.
‘Did you back up?’ he asked.
‘Come again?’
‘Did you back up the data from your phone onto your computer?’
‘You can do that?’
He sighed.
With the transaction complete, he handed me my new, ‘refurbished’, formerly busted phone and sent me on my way. I turned it on and it looked completely different. I shot a worried glance at the sales rep. ‘You have to re-set it,’ he said. Cool, how hard can that be?
Answer: frikkin’ hard!
I don’t know how I ever got my head around this phone to begin with, but Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I’ll be damned if I can figure out what the hell is going on with this little piece of machinery. What was my ring tone before and how do I get it back? What was the theme of my home screen? Was it aqua blue or guava bubbles coloured? And which menu even has those options? My phone book isn’t even in this bitch anymore. The sales rep gave me a print out of it, but I’ll end up with carpel tunnel syndrome if I type all those bad boys in now, so I’m tempted to just wait till people call me and play a fun guessing game.
So, for the foreseeable (or at least until I can find the manual), I shall be communicating solely through carrier pigeon and morse code.
Over and out.
Tags: customer service or lack thereof, phones, technology
Posted in life | 3 Comments »
Tuesday, March 4th, 2008
My cell phone company sucks gorilla size cojonas. Hence, why I decided to cancel my contract with them.
There are few things as annoying as calling customer service numbers. By the time I’ve made it through the 97 menu options, the person on the other end of the line is gonna get chewed out, regardless. Patience may well be a virtue, but I sure as hell ain’t got it.
It took me 37 minutes to cancel my contract yesterday. 37, rage-filled minutes.
I called the number to be greeted with the automated service, not the one where you press numbers, the one where you have to verbally give your response. Evidentally, these automated bitches are not very well travelled. The sound of a British accent throws them into a blind panic.
Automated voice: How may I assist you today?
Me: I want to cancel my contract.
Automated voice: You’d like to add voicemail? Say yes if this is correct.
Me: Huh? No. I want to cancel my contract.
Automated voice: I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Please say it again.
Me: I. Want. To. Cancel. My. Contract.
Automated voice: You’d like to obtain your account information. Say yes if this is correct.
Me: What the fuck? NO! I want to cancel my contract. Screw that. I want to speak to a person. A customer service representative. I want to speak to a customer service representative.
Automated voice: Please hold while I transfer you to a customer service representative.
Me: Third time’s a charm. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!
[cue hold music]
Now, the hold music is an essential part of the telephone customer service experience. I’m assuming that no one is calling to praise their phone company, so it’s safe to say that people are somewhat pissed off in the first place. The right piece of hold music could turn all that around. Kenny G or some panpipe classics used to be the first port of call, but I guess someone finally figured out that wasn’t putting people in the right mood. Yesterday, I was treated to somewhere between seven and ten minutes of ‘Maggie May’ by Rod Stewart. Maggie frikkin’ May. Did this make me feel better? Hell no. Can a girl get some Phil please? Seriously, a verse and a chorus of Sussudio would have made me rethink the whole cancellation thing. I’d have been too busy busting a move to think about my blood sucking airtime charges. I’m annoyed at the song choice, but I’m even more annoyed that it’s still swilling around my head 24 hours later.
Anyway, finally a human gets on the other end of the line.
Customer Service Rep: How may I help you today?
Me: I want to cancel my account.
Customer Service Rep: I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask why?
Me: Just found a better deal elsewhere.
Customer Service Rep: Can I take your phone number, postal code and date of birth? [typing noises as I give her the info] OK, thank you. Please hold the line while I transfer you to the cancellations department.
Me: What? Wai…
Cue Maggie May. A period of time, roughly the length of the ice age, passes.
Cancellations Person: Good morning. I understand you want to cancel your account. May I ask why?
Me: No. I just told the other chick.
Cancellations Person: I understand. Well, I can give you $10 off your tariff for the remainder of your contract, if that’s of interest to you.
Me: Oh now you wanna do that. My endless months of calling you to lower the price of my tariff didn’t sway you huh? Oh well. Next.
Cancellations Person: It’d be very reasonable.
Me: I’m sure it would, but I’ve already got a new phone with another company, so I don’t really need it.
Cancellations Person: You didn’t think to call us first to see what we could do for you?
Me: Are you actually getting snarky with me right now? I did call. Nobody mentioned it. Next.
Cancellations Person: OK, well, we can keep the phone line active for 6 months should you change your mind.
Me: Nope. Just want to cancel it.
Cancellations Person: Or we can transfer it over to a friend or family member.
Me: Are you hard of hearing? I’m canceling because I’m not happy with the service – why would I inflict this crap on someone I care about. That’s just mean. What kind of a person are you?
Cancellations Person: So, you don’t want to keep the line open or transfer it to someone else?
Me: For the love of God woman! Is there not a big button there that says ‘cancel’? If there is, please just press it so we can get this over with.
Cancellations person: [OK, truthfully, I don't even know what she was saying at this point because I was sitting in a corner, rocking back and forth, foaming at the mouth, but I think it was some general, run-of-the-mill nonsense about cancellation fees (otherwise known as 're-mortgaging your house'), there's no turning back, this is your last chance, hellfire and damnation type stuff.]
And after all that – the phone’s still going to be active for 30 days, which will give me time to treat the monumental pain in my ass that this has caused.
Tags: customer service of lack thereof, phones
Posted in life | 5 Comments »