Verizon. We Never Stop Using Your Technological Input to Help Us Help You With Tech Support.
Verizon – America’s Largest 4G Idiot Network | Articles – Smartasses Magazine
Walk into any Verizon store. The little bell on the door is still in mid-jingle when you are suddenly attacked by the “Floor Coordinator”, whose sole job is to discern which of the two-hour lines you should numb your brain in, when you need their services for something. This, as annoying as it may be to have to explain your situation to an additional party, is at least an attempt to make you feel like the correct wheels are now in motion.
But really, the most important part of being a floor coordinator, is actually, the coordinating of the floor. Anyone can stand on the floor and say “Welcome to Verizon”, but without the actual coordinating, it’s really quite a waste of time.
“Verizon. We Never Stop Wasting Your Time.”
After a thirty-five minute wait in line to deactivate one phone and reactivate another one, I come to find out (from the tech, not the floor coordinator) that I, apparently, never needed to stand in line at all. I simply could have dialed *611 from my freaking bathtub if I wanted, and handled it over the phone.
“Verizon. We Never Stop Pretending To Work For you.”
So I go home, call Verizon, and after a decade of waiting on hold, I finally get to talk to actual tech “support”, though, as you’ll soon attest, that title is curiously up for debate. I give serial numbers. I reboot phones. I dial *228 for some magical thing known as “on air programming”. Of course, tech “support” neglects to inform me of one majorly important step in the process – that I must manually type in the new phone number on the new phone in order to reactivate it… which, in case you’re not following every single nuance here, is a way of saying in a nutshell, that I unfortunately have to start the entire process of the twenty minutes I’ve just put in, all over again. Apparently someone omitted a line on Helpful Harry’s little cheat-sheet. If that wasn’t enough of a sh*t-sundae, then the proverbial cherry on top, was that in the middle of round two with tech “support”, I get hung up on. But then again, that should have been expected.
“Verizon. We Never Stop Repeating The Same Mistakes.”
I call back. Of course I have to start all over again with a new techie, and of course, she repeats all of the same previous steps in the exact same order- verifying my name, rank, serial number, social security number, blood type, name, address, hair color, pasta preference, and of course, the gratuitous omission. Then I’m enlightened with a unique twist– techie number-two doesn’t even have the correct cheat sheet for the phone I have in my hand.
“Verizon. We Never Stop Using Your Technological Input to Help Us In Helping You With Tech Support.”
Thankfully, after spending half of my day chatting with the pride of Verizon, I’m now a little cell-phone savvy, or else I’d have been on the phone with Helpful Henrietta until Willard Scott wished me a “Happy One-Hundredth!” on the Today Show. Literally, I was now engaged in the activity of walking this lady through the process of walking me through the programming of my new phone. Literally, I’m the one who told her that I needed to manually program in the new number. Literally, I’m the one who made sure I didn’t miss the omitted step. Literally, I’m the one who gave up, and just simply dialed *228 a second time (which got the phone working beautifully), while she frantically placed me on hold to summon the higher techs, the Fire Dept, the Police, the illuminati and world media to aid her in her quest to aid me.
“Verizon. You Never Stop Doing Our Work.”
Where is Carly Foulkes and her pink T-Mobile motorcycle when you need her?
How Do You Scratch A DVD?
How is it that almost every DVD I’ve rented in the past month has been scratched in some way? How does this occur? How does one actually scratch a DVD?
Many technological experts have put in many hours to foresee that utilizing the DVD system, really, requires extremely little effort.
You take it out of an envelope, and you… put it in.
This is not exactly a grueling exercise with unlimited opportunity for danger. In what world is this a potentially harmful activity? Where exactly is the variable for chaos in this equation? There is no margin for error in this scenario. What am I not foreseeing?
It’s not like we’re using them to scrape frost off our windshields in late Autumn, or utilizing them in the microwave to help heat up our little Red Baron Stuffed Pizza Slices when we accidentally throw out the little metallic-cardboard triangles, and even if we were, I sincerely doubt that even basil is this abrasive.