Customer Disservice

The universe of customer service is clearly out to get me, that's the only explanation. In the past week alone:

My flight home from New Orleans was canceled for no apparent reason, leaving me stranded for many tearful hours in Philadelphia, forcing me to eat a half pound of melty mints. Okay, I probably could have avoided that last part, but can you realistically tell me a single way to pass time in an airport that doesn't involve drinking or eating? I was also reading, but eating half a pound of melty mints helps to distract a person from the discomfort of airport "seating."

I discovered my new Macy's charge card actually had two separate accounts attached to it, due to its having a Visa logo, and that because I'd only made one payment (hello, it's ONE card) the other account that I did not know existed was now overdue. I talked first to a heavily accented Indian woman about this issue, and after reading her my account number and having it incorrectly read back to me for the fourth time (honestly, look, I don't really have a position on outsourcing one way or another...it's a dicey issue, but for the love of god; ENGLISH. You may not like it, but that's what we speak here in dumb old AMERICA, so if you INSIST on sending our jobs out to India, at least hire someone who can SPEAK IT. GOD.), I politely asked her if I could just try again with someone else. I even threw out the "we must have a bad connection" bone, rather than bitching at her.

She transferred me, however, to Rita. Or, as I refer to her, "&*%$##-ing Rita."

Rita was also heavily accented, but in a clipped, "Bitchy Southern Woman" way, the type that would have looked on quite disapprovingly at the shenanigans of the girls in "Shag."

Rita talked to me like I was an idiot, wouldn't let me finish a sentence without cutting me off to contradict what I was saying in the most condescending voice possible, refused to walk me through the website to show me how to make these two separate payments for the SAME GODDAMN CREDIT CARD I apparently have to make every month, and HUNG UP ON ME when I informed her I wished to speak to a supervisor.

I'd even done that in as polite a tone as possible, throwing her the "I'm sure we're just both having bad days, but I need to speak to someone else that might be able to better assist me" bone. BITCH. HUNG. UP.

The next day, I had to go to the doctor for my annual "we're just going to put this doohickey here and you're supposed to just relax and stuff" visit.

"Your appointment was yesterday."
"Um, nooo it wasn't."
"Well that's what we have in here."
"Well I actually specifically requested any day but that one when I called, because that's a day I have a major report due each week at work. So I never would have agreed to an appointment on that day."
"Well, I guess we're going to have to try and fit you in *sigh* but I can't make any promises."
"Well, I guess you're going to have to, because I left work to come down here and it has to be this week so I can renew my birth control prescription before it runs out."
"Well, we'll see."

So I sat there for over an hour, watching countless other young women, including a (quelle scandal!) pregnant girl who looked no older than 15, be shuffled in and out, getting their bits examined without delay. Fucking hell. What about my bits?

They did eventually get er done, but never did apologize.

THEN, I ended up being informed that the UPS guy delivered my Harry Potter book on Saturday, and left it "at the front door." There is no way this happened, as I was actually at home at the time they claimed they delivered it.

The next day, I swung past Dunkin for an iced coffee, was informed they were out of sweet n' low and "running kind of low on donuts."

Dunkin. Donuts. "Running kind of low on donuts."

This has not been a good week for FuService.