A few weeks ago a momentous day went uncelebrated. A few weeks ago I achieved my first anniversary as a Blogger. It passed by without pomp or circumstance largely because I was either too busy or too lazy to post anything about it... not the most brilliant way to honor the culmination of my first year in blogging. So today I put forth this post as a Thank You to all those (friends, family, and foes) who continue to read my sporadic musings.
On to other matters...
I think I've been blacklisted by Fido... or... at the very least I think they have a "Redirect call to a stupid person" note permanently attached to my file. Confused? Well It's probably best for me to start from the beginning...
It all started as most cell phone horror stories do, with the signing of a two-year (soul breaking) contract. It’s almost as though people who are locked into a contract are sent to a completely different (read: incompetent) customer service department. Since the day I signed, I’ve had nothing but problems with them: faulty charges, rude/ stupid/ vapid/ confused/ silent CSR agents.
The good news: this month my contract is finally up.
The bad news: It’s my only phone #, so the pain of switching to another carrier, and subsequently another phone number is too much to bear.
I decide that my only course of action is to call Fido, and strike a deal. What follows is a true account of the details of that phone call:
After entering in my fido number for the second time, I am connected with a Fido Agent:
Assistance Sales Spokesperson: Thank you for calling Fido can I have your fido number please?
Me: I’ve just entered it twice!
ASS: Yes, but I’ll still need your number
Me: Well if you still need me to say it, why on earth did I just enter it in twice?
ASS: That’s just policy Ma'am... I can’t see what was entered into the phone system. It isn’t connected to us.
Me: Your phone system isn't connected to you... a phone company?? Well who is it connected to? Who did I just share my number with... twice?
ASS: I’m sorry Ma’am, I’m not aware of where that goes.
Me (exasperated): fine whatever. Here it is 416.......
ASS: Thank you Ma’am, now before I can help you I'll need your date of birth
Me: May 22
ASS: and your home phone number
Me: I don't have a home phone number, just my cell phone
ASS: well ma'am I see a number on file here so you must have a landline
Me: I think I would know if I had a landline or not... just by the sheer fact that I am living MY life and know what I do and don't have!
ASS: I'm sorry Ma'am but I have a number right here
Me: Quite possibly because you are constantly forcing me to give you a home phone number even though I DON'T HAVE ONE!
ASS: If you could just repeat those numbers for me please
Me: But they truly could be anything...
ASS: (...muted breathing)
Me: Oh... fine!
I proceed to rattle off any set of numbers that comes to mind and ASS responds to each of them with various permutations of the word no: Nope, no, uhuh, sorry. Eventually she starts to tire of this game, and proceeds to help me cheat.
ASS: Well... you got the 416 right... then it's a fffffff...
This continues until I have been given a number that slightly resembles my home phone number from four years ago.
Me: You really should have just given me the number off the bat... It would have saved us alot of time...
The conversation continues for almost another hour... and when I finally hang up... all I've got to show for it is a headache, a phone appointment with her manager, and the promise of an almost-free phone. By my count, I'm now owed at least $275,004.27 for my pain and suffering.
And nothing cures pain and suffering like a good concert! I'm going to see Death Cab again! TONIGHT! This is the first time that I've seen a band twice within a few month span. I am now a true concert go-er! Rock on! Details to follow...