|Paint It . . . Black.
||[Mar. 23rd, 2004|02:00 am]
|[||In the Moment
|||||The Rolling Stones Hot Rocks Album||]|
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away.
Like a newborn baby, it just happens every day.
I picked up a serious head cold yesterday. Most of the time, my nose runs, and I want to attach a bottle. Maybe I can sell it at a curio shop.
Doubts pass over an allergy, considering the fever and the last morning's feature presentation of achy joints.
Yesterday, the stuffiness had an aggressive foothold of surprise. Today, I've grown used to it, and the resistence begins with constant too-late fortifications of Vitamin-C-laced foods and garlic.
My great-grandmother, my mom's dad's mom, used to eat garlic-heavy foods daily, from what I'm told. She rarely, if ever, fell sick.
My suspicions of vampirism have also fallen with the massive amounts of garlic powder in all of my foods.
Surprisingly, I smoke regularly through illness. I used to cut out tobacco when ill. When I realized the recovery time increased only by a couple of days on average without cessation of smoking, I decided it was a better option to continue playing with fire.
The monkey has no sympathy.
Sympathy rests in the dicitionary between syphilis and shit, as my father has reminded me on occasion.
The world never waits.
I had to call Comcast today, with days of great reservation giving way to necessity.
Every day this month, we lose cable internet access anywhere from four to eight hours a day, starting around 9 AM to sometimes 6 or 8 PM.
Before this, in February, this happened every once in a while.
We called out a technician in late January, after the first few days of quick service began to give way into the first appearance of access difficulty.
The first time we tried to resolve the outages, the technician arrived 5 minutes late of the time frame. He arrived in the evening, when the access is usually restored. He poked around my terminal, looking at the connected modem, checked the levels, pronounced nothing wrong, and left.
My friend Brad warned me about Comcast Cable Internet and their service representatives in Los Angeles. Over Christmas break, he lost cable access at his home. The technicians had cut service to the building because of power surges in the area, and they forgot to turn back the juice after the outside problem was resolved. After many arguments, someone came around and finally fixed the problem, days later after his first communication.
One of the managers of the apartment also warned me. "Oh no," she said, when I mentioned the cable internet shut-downs. "You might have to get DSL."
I called again today. I had to put them under my thumb.
I didn't want to be mean. I warned the service representative that I was angry, and I explained the situation succinctly:
"We have had our cable internet access cut off completely, anywhere from 4 to 8 hours or more every day of March."
It didn't seem promising when the service rep responded, "You're losing power to the internet from 4 to 8 . . . is that during the day?"
I explained in greater detail, but I don't think she understood much of what I said. Her first solution was the standard solution given by cable internet reps over the phone each time I've ever called about a problem . . . "Unplug the power to your cable modem."
I can theorize that in a power surge, the inner circuits of a cable modem may become frazzled by the surge, and therefore a power plug unplugging may remedy this as a reset.
Yet, I told her that 22 days of frequent internet difficulty had persisted, and I first warned her that I wasn't angry at her, but at Comcast.
Angry, and 22 days of problems are key words to note.
However, this time, the rep told me to unplug my router and my modem from the outlet.
I told her I had done so. She then responded, "I didn't tell you to unplug your router power."
My ears may be a little plugged up from illness, but in this state, they generally do not add words to a conversation.
My heart soon turned to stone.
Her standard solution provided a segway to nothing. Since her solution, asked repeatedly by her for good measure, went nowhere, I started on my next demand, 3 more months at introductory rates.
I listed this as part of my satisfactory resolution, since the service for these first three months had been horrible. That was mentioned with your incorrect customer service answer, "No, we . . . "
She then tells me, "I can send out a technician for a charge of 49 dollars to fix the problem."
After the great detail I gave her, after my due dilligence to follow her directions, after her failure to understand my specifically spoken words, after my implications of a problem with Comcast's property as the failure source, after all of this, she argued that she cannot do anything at this time for me.
Here it went. Now, I wasn't listening to her any further than she did.
I wanted a manager on the phone, and I demanded one, right as the argument started. She saw a red door, but I painted it black.
Maybe then I'll fade away and I'll have to face the facts.
It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black.
Now I knew I was dealing with a winning loser. After 2 minutes on hold, she returned with the response, "I'm sorry, there are no supervisors available at this time . . . "
"Bullshit," I said. "Get a manager on the line now."
"But . . "
"Get a manager on the line now. GET A MANAGER ON THE LINE NOW." (ignored words from customer service rep underneath the command)
"Please hold, okay?"
By the time I was first put on hold, I fell into the throes of my 19th nervous breakdown.
I don't like to be mean. Sometimes I have to be mean, however, and this was one of those times. So I stopped, while on hold, and instead of getting overly upset, I listened to the generic hold music, and I waited.
After all, Comcast Customer Service had now completed the textbook mistake of becoming part of the problem.
5 minutes later, I got James the manager.
James took the dissociative stance that all managers are trained. "We don't know what the problem is, from here."
With every attempt to distance Comcast's failure from the issue, I volleyed back another complaint or demand.
That's what you have to do as a neglected customer. You cannot let up on the bastards, as they want nothing more than to resolve the situation that has not been resolved.
In other words, they want their way, so you have to continue with your quest to get yours.
I demonstrated my knowledge of how cable internet works. It is a way to let the business know that you know about what they do, and it garners power in your court.
More than once in the conversation, I asked James how much he knew about the "tech stuff" of cable internet service.
Not once did James or the service rep acknowlege or understand that since the modem works just fine in the evenings, it cannot seemingly be an error with my equipment, thus pointing to an error on their part.
This much I have learned. In an argument, Comcast Customer Service takes a stance of agreeing to nothing. Dissociation is another commonly-demonstrated poor habit.
James mentioned when I asked for a technician that knows what they're doing, "all of our technicians are qualified."
"James, the last technician that came out here did nothing, and he was qualified. I want an exceptional technician, not a qualified one. Do you understand?"
Finally, after the repetitive dance, after continuous assertion of my demands, James agreed to award the lowered 3 months rate for the next 3 months upon the outcome of the technician's examination pointing to an error in equipment on Comcast's part.
I could not get him to agree to guarantee no 49 dollar fee applied, given the other possible outcome of the technician ruling that my equipment is to blame.
Well, you can't always get what you want.
However, they have another thing coming to them.
No sympathy for the devil, keep that in mind.
Here's possible points of what may happen upon the technician's visit to our apartment.
* We'll get the 3 months' reduced rate, starting when they fix the problem.
* We're not paying for any more service on the cable internet, period, in its current state.
* If nothing is resolved from the visit, we're not signing the work order.
I told James at one point in the conversation that I have no faith in their service quality at this point. They've been warned.
If, for some reason, there is an error with my equipment, and the technician can logically demonstrate to me, a college graduate with a working knowledge of computers, what happened and how it's my fault, I will pay the 49 dollars, and I will drop the conflict, so long as I have a way to correct the errors.
At this point, however, I am convinced they're fucking me, and they're convinced it's not their fault.
Excellent Comcast Customer Service. What's My Name?