Can you hear me now?

Dude. This new phone is all kinds of awesome. It has a camera! I can totally realize my lifelong dream of being a secret agent. This could only be better if my shoe was a phone and my cufflinks were blow-darts.

I should test my phone. Who can I call and bug at this thoughtlessly late hour? Ah, my parents. Of course.

[beep beep beep beep beep beep beep. SEND] “Hello. You are being connected to the Verizon Wireless Roaming Plus network.”

Wait, what? That can’t be right.

“Please have your credit card ready.”

WHAT?!

“If you are a Verizon Wireless customer, please hang up and dial *711.”

[click] Alright. You’re the boss.

[beep beep beep beep. SEND] “Thank you—calling—Verizon Wireless. For—calls—please—hang—dial—now.”

Crap! Where’s the signal? Quick! Get near a window! Dammit, it’s not working! Wait, now the signal’s better…no, lost it again…wait! There it is! I just have to stand here with my nose four inches from the refrigerator, on tip-toes, without breathing. What did I miss?

“Para español—”

Shit. Maybe I should just press 1. 1 always means English.

[BEEP]

“Please hold.”

I wonder what option I chose. (I hope it wasn’t “To make a toll call to Paraguay, press 1.”)

“Hello. You are being connected to the Verizon Wireless Roaming Plus Network. Please have your credit card ready. If you are a Verizon Wireless customer, please hang up and dial *711.”

But…I just…isn’t that what I…? This is going to be a long night, I can already tell.

Maybe I should look in the manual. Okay…page 3…Getting Started. Step One: Install the Battery. Okay, check. Step Two: Charge the Battery. Done. Step Three: Power the phone on. Right-o. Step Four: Placing and Receiving Calls…aha! To place a call, use the keypad to enter the number. Oh, well, excellent, because I wasn’t sure about all those little shiny buttons with the Arabic numerals on them. Good to know. Press SEND to make the call. When you are finished with your conversation, press END.

Right. Well, that was helpful. If you’re Amish.

Where is my invoice? Maybe I skipped a step in the activation process. Ah, here we are. Nope, I did everything on this list. Twice. Maybe I should go online and look at the website, since it’s in bold print here.

[click click click click click. Beeeeeeeeeep MMMrrrrooooooooorrrrrgggggghhhhhhh.] (I have dial-up.)

Hmm…online FAQs. Here we are: “I keep getting a recording when I try to make an outgoing call.” Call customer service. Okay, but the not being able to make outgoing calls thing might be bit of a roadblock there. Now I have to find my home phone (which I lost somewhere in my apartment about a week ago), and get offline, because I am the only person left in the Northern Hemisphere who still has dial-up. And if DSL is going to be as hard to set up as this damn phone, I will have dial-up until 2017.

Where is my home phone? Oh, hey, this is why we have that “page” feature on the handset base. I guess you just press this button, and—oh HAHAHAHA! I just scared the crap out of my cat, who was sleeping on the pile of laundry in which my phone was hiding, until the laundry started ringing. For a split second, she got that “Holy Jumping Jesus” look on her face, with her ears facing all the wrong directions, before she flew across the room and into the closet. She is going to be so paranoid about clothes from now on.

Good times.

Alright, where’s that customer service number? [beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep] “Thank you for calling Verizon Wireless customer service.” You’re welcome. “Please enter your ten-digit mobile telephone number.” Alright. “Please enter your seven-digit Location Code.” My what? “Please enter your seventeen-digit Order Number.” Holy cow. That’s a lot of…oh, CRAP. I messed up. “That is not a valid Order Number.” Really? Because I thought we were allowed to just make up those number combinations. Do I have that wrong? “Please enter the last four digits of your social security number.” Fine. “Please enter your ten-digit mobile telephone number.” This isn’t really a recording, is it? This is somebody that’s bored in the service department, talking like a machine and then giggling maniacally into a pillow.

“Please hold.” Thank God.

Wow, that’s some jaunty elevator music. I wonder how you get what must be the most soul-crushing job in the world: composing jaunty elevator remixes of really terrible cell phone jingles. Do you go to school for that? What kind of thesis do you complete? I bet somebody takes it really seriously. I wonder if they get irritated when they have to place a recording of someone saying, “Thank you for holding, your call is important to us!” right in the middle, because it interrupts the flow, and they storm out of the sound booth while adjusting their beret and gesticulating wildly about the death of modern sound.

“HellomynameisSomethingSomething, thank you for calling Verizon Wireless customer support. Do you mind if this phone call is tape recorded for our use so that we may better serve you in the future?”

“Suit yourself. But you should know I sound very different on tape than in real life. I’m not that nasal, I swear.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“That’s fine. Go ahead.”

“What can I do for you today?”

“I’m trying to figure out how to activate my new phone.”

“I’d be happy to help you today.”

“Well, good. Okay.”

(Silence.)

“So, okay, well…I did everything it told me to on the invoice, but it’s not letting me make any calls.”

“May I have your mobile phone number, please?” (I gave it to him.)

“Do you have a Motorola V276 phone?”

“Er, well…it is a Motorola. I don’t know exactly what the model is. It’s, um, silver and black. And it looks a little like a UFO. Does that help?”

“My computer is telling me the phone is not activated.”

“Okay, well. Can you activate it?”

“Um, well…let me bring this up on another computer. May I have your mobile phone number again, please?” (I gave it to him. Again.)

(Silence.)

“It’s telling me the phone is not activated yet.”

“Well, at least it’s consistent.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Can you fix it?”

“It doesn’t seem to be going through. Let me get my supervisor. Can you hold?”

“Nothing would make me happier.” I wonder if it’s SomethingSomething’s first day.

[click] I think beret guy might be on to something, here. This music really is the death of modern sound. You’d think they could at least invest in a Time Life boxed CD set or something.

“Hello, this is La Shaaaaaawnda. THANK you for calling Verizon Wireless customer support. Thank you SO much for holding. I would LOVE to help you today.”

“Um, okay. I can’t seem to get my new phone activated.”

“Well, that’s what I’d really LOVE to help you with today.”

“Alright.”

(Silence.)

“Have at it.”

“May I please have your mobile phone number?”

At this point, I’ll have my new number memorized in no time.

“May I ask, are you calling from the mobile phone in question?”

“Well, no. The phone won’t let me make any outgoing calls, what with it not being activated and all.”

“Can I just say, THANK YOU so MUCH for not calling from the phone in question.”

Is she making fun of me?

“Um…you’re welcome.”

“So MANY people try to call from the phone in question. This is just MUCH easier for me.”

“Any time.”

“I’d like you to dial *22890 and hit send, if you would do so please, THANK YOU, and that should begin the programming process for your phone.”

“You want me to stay on the line while I do this?”

“Yes, THANK YOU, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Wow. Girlfriend either has a really outstanding lack of awareness of how condescending she sounds, or she’s been yelled at by her boss one too many times for not saying “thank you” enough. I bet she has a big sign in her cubicle that says THANK YOU in red letters so she doesn’t forget. I bet it’s got darts in it.

“Is the mobile phone connected to the service? Do you hear music?”

“Well, yes, actually. It’s more than a little jaunty.”

“Oh, GOOD. Please let me know when the phone is finished programming.”

“Will do.”

(Silence.)

“Has it finished programming yet?”

“No. Still jaunty.”

“Hm. You should have gotten a message by now.”

“No, I’m still rocking out to the death of the modern—wait, there it goes. It says, ‘Commit OK’ on the screen, and I have no idea what that means. Does my phone have commitment issues?”

“No, it should be all set now.”

“Alright, thank you for your—”

“Now call someone.”

“Pardon me?”

“Make a call from your mobile phone, if you would BE so kind, THANK YOU, so that I can make sure your calls are going through properly.”

“Oh, alright.” Hm, it’s late. I can’t call my own house, because I’m tying up my own phone line with the customer service rep. I guess I’ll call Mom. Sorry, Dad, I know it’s past your bedtime, but I don’t have a choice.

[beep beep beep beep beep beep beep. SEND] It’s ringing.

“It’s ringing.”

“Hello?” (Mom.)

“Hi, Mom.”

“Did the call go through?” (Verizon Lady.)

“Yes, the call went through.”

“What?” (Mom.)

“Oh, good, now hang up on the other party.” (Verizon Lady.)

“Oh! Sorry, Mom, I gotta go. Can I call you back?”

“No, your father is sleeping. What’s going on?”

“Oh, well, then can you call me back?”

“What? What are you doing?”

“Please hang up on the other party, so that I can call your phone and make sure you can receive calls properly.” (Verizon Nazi.)

“I’m trying to set up my cell phone.” (To Mom, slightly panicked.)

“Please hang up on the—” (Verizon Nazi.) For crying out loud.

“Mom! I have to go! Can you call me back?”

“On your cell phone?”

“Wait, my old cell phone or my new cell phone? What? No, never mind. Call me at home.” Why is the Verizon Nazi laughing at me?

“When?” (Mom, bless her.)

“I…I don’t know…in ten minutes? IhavetogonowBYE.” This conversation is stressing me out.

“Okay, bye.” [click] My poor mother.

“Alright,” (to the Verizon Nazi), “I’ve hung up with the other—” Aaah! The new cell phone is ringing, LOUDLY, and oh my God, I think it’s playing a Ricky Martin song.

“Is that you calling my phone?”

“Yes, that’s me.” (Verizon Nazi.) “Your phone should be functioning now.”

“Boy, is it ever.” How the hell do you shut this thing off? Memo to self: investigate volume control and Latin Pop exorcism.

“Well, I would just like to THANK YOU so much for calling Verizon Wireless customer service, and ENJOY your new mobile phone and thank you SO much for becoming a new Verizon customer, because we just LOVE and appreciate your business.”

Why do I still feel like she’s making fun of me?

“Um, yes. Thank you for your help.” [click]

I don’t want to be a secret agent anymore. This is stressing me out. I don’t even want to think about what customer service is like for the cufflink blow-darts.