Calling the Call Center

I hate having to call customer service. Mortgage company, bank, cell phone company, whatever. I hate having to call them. If I can’t handle whatever problem I’m having on the website, I’d rather just cancel my service than have to call and sit through all the bullshit. Alas, that’s not very realistic though, as I’d be changing providers and canceling shit about every month. So I have to deal with calling in and talking to someone – hopefully – a lot more often than I would in a perfect world.

The first thing that pisses me off is the menus. Forget the fact that I have to push a certain number to hear it in English. I don’t mind the “Para Espanol prima el numero dos” or whatever, so the Mexican folk have to press two to continue in Spanish. That’s fine. Just don’t make me push something to continue in the national language. But the menus are just silly and time wasting. Now what they’re trying to do here is keep you from talking to someone. If they can take care of your problems with an automated system, they much prefer that. Keeps their call volume down. Store hours, available balance, directions, whatever – they can all be taken care of without having to talk to a human. But most of the time I already know all that shit. And I need to talk to a person. Enter my next complaint.

Forget that I just had to push eighteen numbers to get to the point where I can talk to a live (mostly) person. The next thing that pisses me off in a major way is that I had to enter my account number on the keypad. And then the customer service rep asks me for it. Mother cobbler, why did you have me input it on the keypad if you’re not going to do anything with it? This makes me want to murder someone in the face. Then I’m hardly able to understand them because they’re in India, I get even more pissed. I literally had to have someone repeat what he was saying four times the other day because I couldn’t understand him. I finally said, “Look, this shit ain’t working,” and hung up.

So I got online to pay my mortgage company the other day, and realized that I’m a month in arrears with my payments. Going through a divorce, and taking over the bills my ex used to take care of, some stuff fell through the cracks. I didn’t even realize. But I want to take care of it, of course. So anyway, I got online and was going to go ahead and pay half the outstanding balance. I will pay the other half next week when I get paid again. No big deal. Except that I can’t change the amount online. I can only add to the amount they are charging me. I can’t input a total amount. So I was like, okay, I’ll just call in and pay by phone.

I fought through the bullshit and entered my account number, then they asked me for my account number, then wanted to verify my name, social security number, address, phone number and mother’s cup size. Like how would I know that? When I finally got them to ask what they could help me with, the dude says, “Okay, you have a an overdue amount of such and such, what can I help you with today?” So I told him I’d like to make a payment, but not the full amount, and I couldn’t pay half of it online. It was all or more, or nothing. He said, “Okay, I’ll be happy to take a phone payment.” I’d be happy to give you one. “Okay sir, there’s a fifteen-dollar convenience fee.” Uh huh, and you can go climb a tree, dipshit. Convenient for whom?

So I got into it with him. “Well, you’ll just have to wait longer for your money then, because I’ll be sending a paper check.” He didn’t want to hear that. I said, “Well I’ll be happy to make a phone payment if you waive the fifteen-dollar fee. That’s insipid.” Nope. Wouldn’t do it. So I said, “For whom is this convenient? And by definition, if it’s more convenient, shouldn’t it be cheaper?” I told him that it didn’t make sense because they would get their money right now, and no one would have to wait two days for a check, tear open an envelope, pull the check out, input the amount and add it to my account, deposit the check, wait three days for the bank to process it, then mail a bunch of shit around. Phone and online payments save paper, gasoline (in the mail truck), stamps, human interaction, labor and all kinds of shit. It’s green, dudes. Hence the term, convenient.

But why does it cost more? You assholes don’t realize you’re hurting the economy by charging that bullshit. You’re forcing people to keep paying by check, which is an antiquated method that should be swiftly done away with. And when I pay my utility bill online, there’s always a two-dollar convenience fee. Why?! You cobbler shitters! You don’t have to open an envelope and go through all that bullshit! It’s more convenient for you! Not me! You should be giving me a convenience discount! Son of a bitch that makes me mad. Yes, I want to murder someone in the penis.

What ever happened to real customer service? Why promote antiquated technology? Stamps? Envelopes? Mail trucks? The Electoral College? Catch the hell up. Welcome to 2008, shitdips.

Sigh. Deep breaths. Okay. I’m cooled off now. Someday when I become president of the world, I intend to outlaw “convenience fees” entirely. Buy some concert tickets from ticketmaster? Yeah, you just paid ten bucks per ticket for convenience. OUTLAWED. They go to jail. ATM Fees? Go fist yourself. A dollar or fifty cents is fine. But 2.75? Eat a dick. JAIL. I’ll also begin enforcing my Frivolous Lawsuit Gets You Hanged Behind The Courthouse law. You saw Janet Jackson’s titty on television and you want to sue? Bailiff, please detain the idiot plaintiff and drag her out back. Audience, feel free to follow us out there if you want to see this bitch turn blue. Okay, that was a total topic change. I guess I’m just venting. Sigh. Okay. I’m done. Have a good, convenient week, friends.

This Post Has 4 Comments

  1. steppy

    Greatness! And on top of charging extra for a convience fee, you’re talking to someone that you have no clue what they are saying. So, I understand your fustration, by the time you hang up you want to strangle someone. Whatever happened to good old fashion customer service?

  2. I love the way they teach those poor guys in India nothing about customer service, but somehow manage to convince them that all Americans actually like hearing their names three times per sentence.

    It’s the epitome of customer service.
    “Yes, Rachel, I think I understand your problem now, Rachel. Rachel, tell me, Rachel, did you want to pay that bill with the tears of your unborn child, Rachel?”

    Yes!

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