As I mentioned, moving is not the best thing possible. However, compared to trying to get Internet service from Kwest*, it's a picnic. Three weeks ago, I spent a lovely hour on the phone with Linda, and she told me how easy getting hooked up would be. I signed up, received the equipment via UPS, and happily humming my Web mantra, I plugged, hooked, switched, attached and turned on.
Naturally, the DSL signal was not working, so I called tech support, on my cell mind you, and spent an hour arranging to have a tech visit my space and get me rolling. The designated time was to be between 9 and 1 on Saturday. At ten minutes to 1, I called Kwest and asked where the hell the tech was. Despite the handicap of tracking down the dude in Phoenix from the call center in Bangladesh, a mere 40 minutes of cell time later, Patel returned and cheerfully informed me I did not live in their service area.
I did not make a friend of Patel. In fact, my language would have curdled milk, but I was slightly steamed. Why did no one inform me I could not be a Kwest customer sometime during the 3 weeks I waited for service? Why didn't Linda tell me? Why did they allow me to live the dream only to throw sugar free Kool-Aid in my face? Why did I believe the hype about their commitment to service? Why do I keep expecting decent customer service in the 21st century?
The answer is simple: I'm a moron. At this point in my life, you'd think I would have become inured to lousy service from everybody in every business, but I keep trying for the gold. The irony is I work in retail, and have spent a good part of my life providing customers with what they want, yet I still not only get the short end of the stick, I get poked in the eye with it as well. If there is such a thing as a crash test dummy for customer service, it would be me.
Of course, after abysmal service, I am also denied the privilege of talking to someone who cares, because automated switchboards are designed to not only prevent me from talking in anger to anyone at the top, but to keep me at bay so long, I am no longer mad by the time a real person on the other side of the world picks up the phone. I bet this is why the Internet is used by so many to obtain services. The big corporations started the whole "no real person is going to talk you....ever" business model, so we are only reacting in a similar manner. It's the big disconnect, and I am really perturbed that I missed my chance to not deal with people. Thanks Kwest. Thanks a lot.
* Nope, that's not a misspelling, it's an attempt to avoid legal problems by disguising Satan's name
Copyright © 2008 thehumorsmithchronicle
2 comments:
For the first time in my life, I'm speaking to more foreign nationals than U.S. citizens on the phone. I don't even know the damn language or the accent...
I would have named names. That's how those fuckers learn.
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