More and more in the past weeks, I've been thinking of Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot. Longtime readers of this blog know that I often view the workplace through a surrealistic lens. And now, I view the customer service universe through a similar lens.
Another day, another few hours on the phone with telecom companies who don't seem to know me or their service technicians or their billing practices. We've had Internet access for some time, but getting a phone # transferred seems to take an astonishing amount of effort.
Yesterday, when I called to find out where we were in the process--and I called because I got 2 contradictory messages from Comcast--the recording told me that I had a service appointment scheduled for August 5.
Why would that be? I didn't make that appointment, and my spouse didn't either. When I asked about it, the 4 people to whom I spoke didn't understand either. Dizzying.
My spouse and I talked about how when AT&T was a monopoly, we all had better service. I'm sure the equipment was less complicated, but I'm also sure when one company controls the variables, it all could run more smoothly--like the difference between a dictatorship and a democracy.
In the end, no one could tell me why a $60 visit was scheduled, but it was unscheduled. And still, no one can tell me why it takes so long to transfer a phone #, but it does, and maybe next week our phone number will make its way to our new house.
But I won't be surprised if there are still some phone calls in my future. And to amuse myself, I'll rewrite Beckett. Maybe I'll even quote some Beckett to the hapless "customer service" people who pick up the phone.
What are we waiting for?
We're waiting for the telecom company to respond.
Why are we waiting?
Are there any carrots and radishes left?
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