Friday, September 04, 2009

Comcast Motherfuckers Part II

You people wanted a blog, well, here it is.

A lot of people wondered whether I still had it in me. I mean, I used to have reason to rant about a lot and then suddenly, I didn't. I'd get fired up, but only for a few minutes and then I'd lose any motivation to write anything. So I'd half-write a bunch of things and then delete them and that'd be it.

Well, today is the day. Because today I woke up, turned on my TV, and found something was wrong with my service. Then as I called Comcast, I tried to check my email and realized that something was REALLY wrong because I couldn't get online either. Now, just as a testament to my new zen state of mind, I was giving Comcast the benefit of the doubt and thinking the service issues could be because of construction going on outside and around the area.

But when I called Comcast, I got a message telling me that my account was past due by 57 days. I owed $79, supposedly. This was surprising to me because of two things: 1. I have automatic bill pay set up and have had it set up for three years and have never missed a payment; and 2. I checked my bank account two days ago and saw a bunch of deductions, Comcast being among those. So SHOCKING something was wrong. And then I realized that in my zen state, I had totally overlooked the universally known truth: when you deal with Comcast, you deal with Comcast motherfuckers.

So I spoke to Comcast Motherfucker Dan, who first tried to tell me that the $79 was a miscellaneous fee. "So it wouldn't have shown up on your regular bill."

Who has these rules? Charging customers miscellaneous fees that don't show up on your regular bills? Where would I have seen it? Where else do charges appear? I asked Dan these very questions.

"I don't know, ma'am. You can call Comcast to check your balance at any time, though."

"So I'm supposed to call Comcast - even after I've checked my bill online and seen that it's been paid - just to make sure you haven't added any of these miscellaneous charges?"

"Yes."

"Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You're telling me that your company charged me $79 for miscellaneous fees, none of which you can identify, and then you're telling me that it wouldn't have shown up on my bill, and then you're telling me that even after I check my balance and pay the bill that you've listed on my account, I should still call and check to make sure there's no outstanding balance."

"I think I am, but that was a lot there."

"Okay, well, Dan, trust me on it. It's ridiculous."

He laughed a little. "Well, it looks like once you pay the $79, we can restore your service."

Then I laughed a little. It probably sounded slightly maniacal. "Okay, we have several problems to deal with."

"Can you not pay the $79?"

"I don't think 'can' is the right word. I can pay it, but I'm not going to."

"Well, that is a problem."

"I agree."

"You really should pay the fee, ma'am. It's 57 days past due, and I need to secure that to restore your service. We interrupted it."

Now, I should pause here and admit that it took me a few minutes to put that together. Like at first when I heard the amount, I didn't connect that being past due 57 days (for an amount I was pretty sure I didn't owe) would result in my service being shut off. Excuse me, interrupted. I had always thought that service being cut off was like a totally awful last resort, like if you have been hearing from collection agencies and everything and then one day you come home and you have no heat or electricity and a pile of unpaid bills and bright pink warning notices has collected on your kitchen table. This wasn't the case with me. I didn't have any notices from Comcast. I could afford my bills. I pay my bills! So to hear my service was shut off - excuse me again, interrupted - was news to me.

"Yes, and I actually have a problem with that."

"Well, after 57 days, we interrupt service." (And also, while I'm at it, what's the deal with 57 days? It's like Heinz and Comcast have 57 as a special number and nobody else gives a shit about it.)

You can see that I was pretty much moving in one big circle with my Comcast frenemy Dan, so I realized I had to be more direct. "Dan, I don't think I owe $79. I would like to talk to someone who can look at my account, see that I've paid all bills on my account in full - on time and have been for the last three years - and I'd like to talk to someone who can erase this $79 fee. Then I'd like to get my service non-interrupted."

"I can do that," he says, pretty happily.

"Great. Let's do that."

"Okay, so it looks like you did pay your bills."

"I told you: I PAY my bills."

"Right.... so now we've just got the $79."

"And can you tell what that's for?"

"Yes. Miscellaneous."

"No."

"Yes."

"No, I know it's for miscellaneous. I want you to break down what miscellaneous is."

"Oh, okay, ma'am. Miscellaneous is when it's a bunch of random things all put together. Like when you pack a box and you label- "

"No, I know what miscellaneous means. I'd like you to tell me what these random things are. As a rule, I try not to pay random charges."

"That seems to be the problem," he deadpanned. Oh, we're going to deadpan? Okay.

"Indeed."

"I am not sure what the random charges are."

"That's a problem."

"Well, ma'am, like I said, you can pay the $79 now and I'll set your service back up for you."

"I think I'd rather talk to someone else about not paying the $79, then I'll have the service put back. Unless I can somehow figure out a way to get rid of Comcast altogether."

This seemed to offend Dan, because he no longer laughed or deadpanned. Instead, he told me, "We take comments like that very seriously, ma'am. I will transfer you now. But if you check your balance in the future you can avoid these things."

Thanks, Dano.

So he transferred me to Donna. Donna basically regurgitated exactly what Dan had told me, and I basically told her exactly what I'd told him. We were at a standoff. Donna then asked me if I could check my balance online and pull up the same page she was looking at, just to be sure there was no mention of the $79 fee. "Actually, I can't," I told her. "You've shut off my internet service because of a miscellaneous mystery $79 fee that's past due by 57 days, which, by the way, I got no notification about."

"We actually don't shut off your service, ma'am. We interrupt it."

"Well, honestly, it's all the same to me: it's not working. It's not ON."

"Yes, but if we shut it off, we'd have to do a complete new order. This we can just pop on, just pop it right back on, as soon as we square away this bill. So can you go online?"

"Once again, since you have shut off - and yes, SHUT OFF - my service TEMPORARILY, I cannot."

"Are you in an apartment building?"

"Yes."

"Can you just hop on one of your neighbors'?"

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Well, technically, maybe. But sort of like the new age borrowing sugar."

"Sort of. Except it would be like breaking into my neighbor's apartment, grabbing just a spoonful of sugar, and leaving and never telling her about it. And not knowing my neighbor at all in the first place."

"Okay, well, you're the first person to say that to me."

"And you're the first internet service provider to tell me to steal someone else's internet. First days for everyone!"

No laugh. On either end, actually. Because I was getting realllly tired of Comcast.

"So, you can't see the bill. But there's no $79 on here."

"Yes, I trust you on that."

"So, apparently we don't know where this $79 came from... sometimes that can happen."

"What can?"

"A random charge gets attached to the wrong account and then we have situations like yours."

"So you can randomly attach a charge to my account, never tell me about it, never send me any notification - no email, no letter, no phone call, nothing! - and then just shut off the service?"

"Temporarily."

"So now you're telling me that I in fact do not owe, nor have I ever owed, $79 past due to you."

"I think that's right."

"Okay, well, can you correct the problem and make sure there's no record of this on my account?"

"I think so."

"Well, I'd like to make sure."

"I understand. But you should know, we all make mistakes." This made me laugh. Like she's telling me something in contrast to what I'm asking her to do - to make sure. And she's sort of telling me she'll do it, BUT she wants me to know they make mistakes. Umm, Donna, I know this, this is why I want you to double check. These people are stupid motherfuckers, I'll tell you.

Anyway, Donna double checked, assured me everything was set, and then asked me if there was anything else she could do for me. Just re-install my service. So she did.

"I hope this has been a pleasant experience for you," she told me as we prepared to end our exchange.

"Well, I have to be honest. It wasn't."

"I'm sorry to hear that. But we're supposed to ensure that every one of our customers has a pleasant experience before we close any complaint."

"Well, I would think you have many open issues then."

"Not really."

"Would saying I had a pleasant experience end this?"

"Yes."

"Okay then, I had a pleasant experience."

"Well!" I could hear Donna practically beaming through the phone line. "I am SO glad to hear this. We thank you for being a loyal Comcast customer."

Motherfuckers, they got me.