So my phone was getting up there. Four years old? Five? Jennifer Aniston carried the model I used on Friends. When was that show on?
So with the battery no longer holding a charge for more than a few minutes, I figured I could just get a new battery for it. The phone worked fine after all. So I walk in to the Cingular store and tell the young saleswomen that I need a new battery. She asks what kind of phone I have, so I pull it out. She says, "Whoa!" Yes, the phone is that big, apparently. Not John Wayne movie walkie talkie big, mind you, but at that moment, I realized they have gotten smaller. Now I know what you are thinking, surely I'm used to that reaction from women by now. But no, I guess I hadn't really paid much attention to advances in cell phone technology. I mean, I know color screens and camera phones and for all I know, cappuccino makers, come standard on these things nowadays. But I hardly used mine. Still, it was a sign.
So I figured why bother with tracking down a battery for my early 21st century can and taut string? And heck, what with competition, why should I buy one? And why should I settle for my paltry 150 minutes of nationwide per month even though I hardly ever even get close to using that limit?
Actually, the latter wasn't a big deal at first. I just wanted a new phone at minimal cost and if Cingular could help me out, that would be fine. I searched the Cingular site diligently for a deal but all the deals required more expensive plans than I had. That was a deal breaker. I'd noticed this with mail offers to me for new phones, too. But I didn't need any additional services.
I even went back to the Cingular store where women gasped when I pulled out the monstrosity that probably gives off radiation levels that would fell North Korean missiles. I said, "I'm off contract and I want a new phone. What can you do for me?"
Not much, as it turns out. The best they could offer was some model that cost $50.00 after rebate. Phone companies give away phones to steal new customers and my company won't bust a gut to keep me? When I've never even been late with a payment?
I was telling a friend at the pub about my cell phone dilemma and he, being a fairly big shot in the telecommunication industry, told me my options and led me to a plan that would get me a solid phone for ten bucks, a better plan, and cost less to boot. So I went with his recommendation and signed up online with Sprint through a web site my friend sent me. It went just fine and I received confirmation very quickly. Indeed, when the company called to say they needed additional information, it turned out that they thoughtfully assumed I would not want the only color they had left in stockpink. That was a brave call on their part considering I live in Ann Arbor. They probably had a fifty-fifty chance of sparking some sort of civil rights suit with that assumption and call.
Now don't get me wrong. I have pink dress shirts. The color of testosterone oozing out, as I like to say. But I do draw the line at pink phones. Ok, the line is drawn well before that point, but you get my point. Anyway, I was very impressed with that service call.
UPS tried to deliver the phone on Friday but I was at work. Luckily, I was going to be home on Monday when the note said they'd next try. So on Monday I received my new phone. It was small. Much smaller than my old phone:
My old phone was once sleek, stylish, and carried by Jennifer Aniston. She may not hold center seat in my Pantheon of Babes, but she sits their proudly, still. But now, it is quite possible that I operated the last remaining model of this type in existence anywhere in the Western hemisphere.
Sadly, they failed to port my old number. This isn't the biggest deal since I don't live by my phone. Few have my number and unless I have it turned on it is of no use to those who have it anyway. The biggest problem was that I had to contact my old company and cancel my first service. And the thought of going through what I assumed would be phone heck as the company tries to persuade me to remain with them was annoying.
Anyway, when I noticed I didn't have my old number, I went looking for the toll free number on a 3 by 5 card that I had on my desk. Ah, got it fast and I called the number. The woman who answered announced the company name which I didn't pay much attention to (since I was working through a company I had never heard of, it went by me) as I announced who I was and told the woman that my old number on my new account hadn't ported with my new phone. I explained that I just wanted to verify whether it would take some time or whether there was a mistake in the order.
The woman said something about Emily--ok, now I know who I am talking to--and said I should have received a letter the last summer from them.
Huh?
Emily? She said Emily. Emily! That Emily!
And the company the woman announced? Wait! She said "Alliance One" didn't she?
Ah, crud! I'd contacted the idiots of Annoyance One. I'd grabbed the wrong card and in my haste didn't notice anything other than the toll free number on it. You'd think it would have jogged a memory considering how many times I heard it on my answering machine. But no, it did not. I'd called the fools who'd called me on a near-daily basis since the fall of 2005 through the end of February 2006 (See List of Annoying Things back to the fall of 2005 for this saga). Alliance One finally slipped once around the second month, I think, and said that they were looking for an Emily but never once asked for me. Or identified themselves other than one time early on. They never once said why they were calling. Never asked for me by name. And snootily lectured me on courtesy, saying I should reply to a call to my number that didn't give me any reason why I should take time out of my day to call them! That Alliance One! And they called again a couple weeks ago! Something that angered me enough to resolve to track every call and then fire off a letter to our state attorney general.
Crud. I'd not wanted to call them to take my time to fix their error. Nor did I want to give them a data point to prompt more calls. And I'd just given this company my name!
Not being too slow on my feet and determined to turn a mistake into a victory, I switched gears into irate mode on a dime. Emily? Letter in mail? Anger mode engaged.
"Look," I said sternly, ignoring the whole cell phone line of conversation that may have pushed her a bit off balance anyway, "I am not Emily. I don't know any Emily. I haven't received any letters from you and you've called me about a 'gajillion' times since the fall. And I want these phone calls to stop."
I especially like the 'gajillion' part.
So she says she'll remove my number from their listing.
I ended the conversation.
Huh. Well that was easy. Unless I start getting calls from them to me instead of to Emily.
I still don't get how they could fail to use any databases to find out that no Emily resides at my phone number. And that it doesn't match whatever address they've been mailing letters to since the summer.
And my last step to cancel my Cingular account went well. As I expected, the operator tried to talk me out of it but I ended that line by saying I was certainly happy with Cingular service but I was switching to go with a friend's company. I decided not to go into my complaint about their site or store which didn't seem to care one bit about retaining a customer. The operator did say I could get a new phone for very little and a better plan for the same amount of money.
So close, but too late. I'm sure they make more money by not making it obvious to existing customers what they can get for free, but in my case they lost a customer by keeping this information secret until the last line of defense at the cancellation step. I already had my new phone and new service and so offers of new phones and better plans were just too late. Actually, I wish I had explained this to the operator. She was perfectly nice about the whole thing and I have nothing against my soon-to-be old company.
So a new phone that won't cause women to gasp when I pull it out; and I escaped from the confused bill collector and my old cell phone service provider.
