I had all intentions on coming in here and sharing some sunlight. Instead, I just spent the last 1/2 hour on the phone with a "supervisor" with my cell phone carrier. Frank's heavy Middle Eastern accent betrayed him and set him up to start sniffin' my asshole.
For some reason, though I just paid my July bill less than 10 days ago, my August bill which just closed like yesterday has come up with me incurring overages. I spoke to a customer service representative when my service was suspended with a $0.00 balance. She told me when I could view my bill online. I received the "view your bill" text yesterday morning. Of course, when I logged on, no such bill was available. The cost of the overages, yes, the reason for them--NO! I called and told the polite rep to skip me straight to her supervisor. The Hold game began, with her not really understanding that I KNEW I was waiting for my call to be patched through to India and that I'd have to wait in the holding pen until someone ("Frank") could receive me from the queue.
My original intention was to kill'em with kindness, but the wait listening to Bollywood Muzack had my head throbbing and the beast had been released from her cage. I'll spare the recap of the details, but my favorite part was "Frank's" repeat of the cost of the overages just before telling me that he couldn't pull the actual causes up on the system because they weren't there yet. How in the hell do you expect me to believe that you could process fees for things that aren't yet ANYWHERE in the system. I informed "Frankie" Baby that he needed to dig a little deeper because he was going to give me the dates for said overages. Now, I'd already decided that "Frank" is in fact NOT a supervisor because his responses were just as textbook as the rep's were.
Let me go back though. All of that was really my 2nd favorite part. First a little history. I adjusted my plan over a year ago to include more minutes than I could and have ever used, along with unlimited text. At the end of each billing cycle I'm several hundred minutes away from reaching my cap. Keeping that in mind, "Frank" comes back to tell me that my overages occurred AFTER I started back to work. In the words of my man Bill Duke in Menace to Society, "See, you done fucked up now." If I managed not to go over my minutes when my summer was free, how in the hell did I manage to do it the week that I was stuck in day-long meetings?
"Frankie" Baby told me there was no way for me to dispute the calls if I couldn't see the record and say them to him, according to FCC law. He got scared when I asked him for his last name so that I could call back tomorrow when the info will supposedly be available. He started doing the two-step and the moonwalk then and gave me his last initial because there's no direct line and blah blah blah. So, then I'll take your work ID # too, my Middle Eastern boyfriend, and I'll holla back at you tomorrow because your accent makes me moist. I made sure he had my number and when I'd be available to answer my home phone (since y'all are so reckless with my airtime) so he could call me just in case I get lost in the Indian matrix and find myself speaking to "Steve" instead.
Eastern time, "Frank," and don't keep me waiting.
Watch me move.