Befuddled by billing issue
One minute I was working and the next I was not.
Rather, I could not. At 10 o’clock that morning, my workday came to an abrupt halt when my home internet shut off.
I knew what this was about: weeks of phone calls had failed to resolve a billing problem. Now, faced with a day of work and no way to complete it, I headed out to try to shake something loose. It was time for in-person battle.
Anyone who has ever tried to sort out a billing or service problem with a large corporation would have felt my pain as this unfolded.
Two men met me at the counter.
“My internet was shut off,” I said. “I’ve had an open ticket for a billing problem without anything being resolved. My bill is paid through next month; it cleared my checking account four days ago.”
One man typed my information into the screen while the second man stood beside him and watched.
“Your last payment was in April,” the first man said.
I explained that when I’d checked my bank account the previous day, it showed that the company had taken the May payment out four days ago.
“I don’t see that here,” said the man, staring at the screen.
I explained that I would have logged into my bank account to take a snapshot of that, but “you cut off my internet.”
And so began at least 10 minutes of two trained employees staring at a screen. They did not talk to me or look up for long enough to make eye contact with me. Even in the store, they’d put me on terminal hold.
As I stood there at the counter staring at the tops of their heads, I wondered what might be so cryptic about my account that they couldn’t find my payment.
“Any luck?” I asked. Neither man spoke.
I thought about asking if I could walk to the other side of the counter to maybe help things along. I wondered if they were not looking for my payment at all, but playing a video game. So I stood there and did some Kegels.
By 10 minutes into this I was clenching my jaw, too. Where was the money I sent?
“Customer service” is an oxymoron. In my travels through this ordeal, I’d spent several hours trying to reach someone who could help. Every phone call started with that confusing Tilt-a-Whirl of options, none of which ever led to someone who knows how to help, or even wants to. I think I was targeted the day I canceled other services, thus earning a scarlet letter Q, for quitter.
The company was now going to trifle with me. I’m convinced these big companies make it almost impossible for customers to have their concerns resolved. If they make it hard enough, we’ll just give up and pay the stupid bill.
“Oh, here it is,” said the man at the counter finally. “The May payment is here.”
“Will you please turn my internet back on?”
He said he would. I asked for him to text me a confirmation number, so I wouldn’t have to start all over again.
“We don’t do that,” he said, which is strange coming from a company that had called and texted me at least twice a day for two weeks.
I thanked the men, walked out of the store, drove a half-mile down the road to a competing company and signed up for internet.
I felt like I’d finally broken up with a rude, snotty boyfriend. We’ll see how this new company treats me, but for the moment, I felt lighter.