||[Feb. 27th, 2005|02:16 pm]
|||||Baka Beyond, The Meeting Pool||]|
Very low today. Cut off from the world.
I have a new phone number: 612-419-6977.
Here is where I give Verizon Wireless a bunch of well-earned bad press: last Thursday, when I tried to make a phone call, I got a message that I was being transferred to roaming, and to please have my credit card handy. I called customer service to find out what was up, and waited on hold for 20 minutes before speaking to a rep. At which point I was told that there was suspected fraud on my account, and only the fraud department could help me – I was transferred. Back to the main phone system. Then hung up on. Tried again. Waited another 20 minutes. Got someone different; was told the same thing. Learned that my bill was past due. “But I haven’t yet gotten a bill from you,” I told him. Found out that they hadn’t gotten my address update – still had the address of the too-small apartment I never moved into. The postal service hadn’t forwarded the bill, either. But here’s the kicker: Verizon is a COMMUNICATIONS COMPANY. No one called me. They just shut my phone off.
So this customer service rep tries to transfer me to the fraud department. I am again shunted into the main phone system, and then hung up on. I’m so angry I’m shaking, at this point. I can feel the cardiac arrhythmia starting. Try again. Same results – this time I tell the guy to NOT put me on hold or transfer me without remaining on the line, or I would “throw my phone into the nearest lake and not speak with them again.” He laughs, but remains on the line. Right up to the point that the main phone system hangs up on me. At which point he’s not there, either. I have now spent over an hour and a half. I give up and finish my evening’s business, depressed that I can’t talk to Brent. Isolated. I go to bed.
Saturday. I go to the Verizon store. I work with Anicia, the store manager, and another experienced sales rep. They’re on the phone to several different departments for TWO AND A HALF HOURS, trying to get me a phone situation that works. No one can bypass the fraud department, and they’re only open M-F 8AM-4PM. Those hours DO NOT work for me. I’m lucky to get bathroom breaks.
Turns out the “suspected fraud” = my phone calls to Brent in St. Kitts. Had anyone ASKED me if those calls were bona fide, I’d have told them. And they might have noticed, perhaps, that the calls were all going to the SAME PLACE? Nope.
I cancelled my account. They waived the fee for this, graciously, as I was so aggrieved by the whole lack of customer service on the part of Verizon central (the folks at the store were great, and tried everything). They tried setting me up with another account. No dice. Eventually, they paid for me to have a prepaid account. Which would give me an hour to talk to Brent, and then have no minutes left. Which doesn’t work for me, but at least gave me a way to call him (and my Dad, who calls me regularly), to let them know that I’m still alive. Which I do. And then hang up, feeling very depressed that I have no options to talk to anyone, really, since I have to save my few minutes for business. And for setting up a land-line. This is ridiculous.
I’ve heard good things about T-mobile. I’ll check it out. Hopefully, they can reprogram my phone. Verizon MIGHT be able to retain me as a customer if they really bend over backwards to make amends. I don’t have high expectations.
For clerk duty today (in the large animal hospital: senior students are responsible for the in-hospital treatments, and take shifts of about 6 hours), we had a colic case come in. A very pregnant colic case. Which was super interesting, and good experience to be involved in. I also euthanized a goat with progressively deteriorating neurological signs – poor thing. Fortune Cookie, the miniature horse foal (yearling, now) with the permanently locked, irreparable patellas is starting to freak out, big time, when we put her in her cart (like a cart for paraplegic dogs, but custom built for her). I think, after a year of pain, she’s about had it. Hopefully the owners, who have amassed an ENORMOUS hospital bill, will make the decision to end her suffering soon. I somehow don’t see it, though, alas. L
So, with Brent’s computer down, and no phone to talk to him with, I’m basically starting to feel that he’s a figment of my imagination – can feel him receding into the past. No options for emotional, spiritual, or physical connection, only mental – and he’s not much of a writer, by his own admission, even if the mental connection is there in person. The loneliness creeps in, soul-sucking shadow of the past, with all the fears and doubts. I hate this. I’m miserable. I don’t feel remotely like a bride-to-be, planning a future. I feel like a mediocre vet student, running away from a past.