Six Wasted Hours
I just spent six hours(!) sitting on my window-sill, watching the street for the arrival of a Telekom technician, who was supposed to fix my phone and internet today. (For now, I am still accessing the net via an unsecured wireless network from across the street, which gives me connection for some three minutes a time, before it breaks down and I have to re-connect to gain connection for another three minutes)
In case you’re wondering why I spent the time sitting at the window: That’s because my phone is not the only thing around here that’s broken – my doorbell is, too.
Brilliant as they are, the Telekom wouldn’t be more specific about the time of arrival than “between 8am and 4pm”. About 30 minutes ago, after six hours of waiting, I received a text-message telling me that “the appointment could not be realized today”. For further information it gave me the number of a Hotline which I could call free of charge (now isn’t that nice?). I called, sat through the usual procedure of “type in your customer number now, followed by the #-button. Now type in your PIN. Now type in the first three pages of Dostoyevsky’s novel ‘The Idiot’…”. Then, that’s right, AFTER that procedure, I was played a recorded message telling me that this hotline was outdated and non-existent, and please-call-our-other-hotline.
So I did that. Sat through the same procedure again, though with an even more annoying and even-slower-speaking computer voice giving the instructions. Then I was put on hold for 9 minutes. Yes, I counted the goddamn seconds. Then I was told by a clueless customer-service-person that they had not yet received feedback from the technician, and that there was nothing she could do.
My main problem in situations like this is that even when I’m boiling with rage as I was right then, I am completely unable to forget that I’m not talking to anybody who is even remotely responsible for the whole mess. Probably just some poor student trying hard to make money to keep their car fuelled.
I can’t shout at them, it’s just not their fault. I wish I had the direct line to somebody whom I’d feel justified to rip their fucking head off. That would hardly help, but for what it’s worth it would make me feel a lot better.
Obviously, she wasn’t able or willing to put me through and let me speak to the boss-level directly. She was also unable to provide me with any information of any use at all. All she could offer was “call again after 6pm, we should have the technician’s feedback by then and be able to tell you what went wrong.”
How fucking sweet.
I’ve had had to deal with that hotline before – if you’re calling after 3pm, there is usually no getting through. I’ve even learned that if you spend more than 45 minutes on hold, the line kicks you out automatically.
The repetitive 15-second sample of a fucking 8-bit audio file that they use to torture you while you’re on hold doesn’t help, either.
I haven’t been this angry in a long time. I’m seriously considering to use the next three minutes of connection to search the net for instructions on how to build letterbombs. Remember that scene from Fight Club when Jack bashes the blonde guy’s face in and just walks away saying “I felt like destroying something beautiful”? That’s my mood right now.
Sharing is caring! --->
Subscribe to comments with RSS.