[[Still A Girly Girl]]

May 26, 2005

I had to call my phone company this morning because apparently there’s a past-due amount and they’re threatening to shut me off. I was forwarded to a very efficient, brisk woman with a very heavy Spanish accent. I don’t believe that my phone company has outsourced their customer service department yet, but fat lot of English-speaking good that does me. The last several times I’ve had to call them I’ve spoken to someone whose communication skills are sub-par, and that’s including the ones that do speak clear, fluent English. I don’t have a problem with people who speak another language, I have a problem with people who are hired to help English-speaking customers and barely have a grasp of the language themselves. I also have a problem with people who do speak English, but are too thick-headed to grasp the concepts that I'm trying to run by them. Both of these things can lead to long, frustrating, circular conversations.

Anyway, I called to see if I sent payment tomorrow I could avoid my service being shut off. Usually if you tell them that the check is in the mail they will make a note on your account and give you a few extra days for it to get there.

“Would you like to pay over the phone today, ma’am?” She asked me.

I informed her that I have no way to pay over the phone, to which her response was, “I see Bank of America checking account here. You would like to pay with that?”

I was confused. I do not have a Bank of America checking account, nor have I ever used someone else’s Bank of America checking account to pay my phone bill. I told her this.

“Well, it’s there.” She said.

Through the entire phone call, she kept interrupting me, and didn't seem to listen to anything I said. This pissed me off. All I wanted to know was when my service was going to be suspended and if I could buy (figuratively speaking, of course) a little extra time. I have a feeling that Sprint’s customer service department is paid more if they get people to pay over the phone because nobody that I’ve ever talked to there has just let it go when I say, “No. I cannot pay over the phone.”

Eventually she told me that mailing payment was not advised, because it could take 7 to 10 business days to post to my account and if payment were not received by June 1st, I would be disconnected until the full amount was received. Now, I’ve NEVER had it take more than 5 business days for a money order to be posted to my account. I told her this.

"I cannot tell you that it only takes 5 days, ma'am, because they tell me 7 to 10 and that is what I know."

All I wanted to know was how many days away the first was, considering their text message (which was very considerate, as I have not been notified the last three times they’ve suspended my service for whatever reason. I just try to make a phone call and the damn thing’s shut off. Yes, I’m a bad bill pay-er.) was sent at 8:30 in the fucking morning and I don’t happen to have a calendar in bed with me.

“I don’t recommend that, ma’am. If you mail payment it will take 7 to 10 days to post to your account.”

Right. She already told me that. I was starting to feel like this woman was being condescending. She doesn’t get paid to judge me. She gets paid to tell me how and where to get my money to her company for services rendered, and to maybe half-assed help me with any technical problems I may be having. I guess the judgment is just an added bonus.

I expressed my concern over having someone else's financial information on my account, adamant that I had only ever paid with money orders, and once with cash at a Sprint store because I happened to be in Seattle where I could actually find one.

"It's there," she repeated. "I don't know what to tell you. You maybe paid many time ago and you forget."

I'm frustrated with her customer-serving style, which by this point I attributed less to her language skills, her comprehension of English actually being pretty good, and more to her being a bitch (the constant interruption being the key factor in this decision). I give up, sarcastically thank her, and hang up.

But not before she rattles off something that I don't understand, partly because perfectly normal things people say lately have been sounding like gibberish to me (probably a cognitive problem caused by my MS) and partly because I was still not fully awake. Whatever she said ended with, "Thank you, Miss Eryn. Have a good day."

Now, it's 9:33 AM and I cannot fucking sleep. Happy Thursday.

Don't forget to see what's new on my photo blog and Party In My Pants!

Posted by erynthenerd @ 9:02 AM

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