Today I am busy bemoaning the fact that I am sick (it was just a little cold until I wrote about it yesterday, at which point the fickle hand of fate gave me a mighty FLICK towards it being something much stronger and yuckier), and this morning after I got the kids off to school I sat down to work. And after about ten minutes, our internet went out. I am tired and cranky and hopped up on Sudafed, so I did the only logical thing: I whined until Otto said he’d take care of it.
He poked and prodded in our office, and then decided that it was indeed the cable company’s fault, nothing we’d done or any sort of hardware problem here. So he called them up.
I listened as he grew more and more aggravated, wading through their various menus.
I believe that at least 50% of the murders committed in this country can be traced back to voice menus on customer service lines. I’m just sayin’.
Anyway, on and on it went. I think it was about fifteen minutes before he got a human on the line. And then they made him recheck everything he’d already checked, and about six years later they promised to send someone out.
And THEN—this is the good part—they tried to get him to switch to the cable company’s phone service. You know, because our service has been SO RELIABLE and we suffer from a compulsive need to give them MORE MONEY.
I know it’s just that guy’s job and he was just reading from his script, but honestly. “Here you go, Joe. Now. When someone calls in, all angry because their service is out and they’ve been stuck in phone menu hell for half a day, TRY TO SELL THEM MORE STUFF. It’ll be great.”
And just like that, my job feels awesome again.