There’s a thing that happens to a person in an abusive relationship. While the abuse is taking place, she can clearly see the injustice; she wants to get out. She’s taken her last hit. She packs her bags and gives the cat to a neighbor and makes arrangements to stay with her mother for awhile. But then the abuser comes home with a bunch of flowers and a cubic zirconium necklace and an apologetic smile and tells her how much he needs her and how his feelings for her just overwhelm him sometimes. And she believes he wants to change, and she puts her bags down and admires the Sparkly. She convinces herself that the mistreatments are probably temporary, and may even be a necessary sacrifice for those times she thinks she’s truly happy.
I have an abusive relationship with Cox Communications. Specifically: customer support.
You may recall that when I got a grown-up job, I had a
List of Things to Get Now That I’m Gainfully Employed. One of the things on that list was high-speed internet, which is not only beneficial for my web-based small business, but also a basic human need, like water, or Tivo.
Living in an apartment complex affords little variety when it comes to utilities, so I called the only company I was allowed: Cox Communications. I ordered a cable modem, installation, and high speed service, and was pleased to note that there was even a special running where I would receive a free web cam and a discount on my first three months of service. I was
excited.
While placing my order (the monetary total of which could finance a land war in Asia), they gave me the option of supplying either my credit card number or my social security number to “hold” the appointment. Not a big fan of identity theft, I supplied my credit card number. I later received a notice from Cox saying that because I chose not to provide my SSN “for a proper credit check,” (what?) I would be charged an additional $75, which would be refunded after I had continued service for a year. Thanks for making that clear when I signed up, Cox. Strike one.
I scheduled an installation appointment for a Friday afternoon. They changed it to 8:00 Saturday morning, without asking me. I wanted to be irked, but I decided not to be bothered by this; I was willing to sacrifice my weekend sleep-in for what promised to be a happy addition to my household. My spirits were still up.
The very polite cable installation guy showed up on time and went to work immediately. I ignored the fact that he typed with only his pointer fingers.
I spent the majority of Saturday playing with my speedy new internet connection and changing my forty thousand online accounts to my new email address. I also spent the day perfecting the art of restarting my computer every 30 minutes, because the internet connection would inexplicably disappear, and would right itself only once I restarted the machine. I suspected this was not normal, and decided to make my first call to Cox Customer Service.
I had only barely dialed the customer support number when I got a recording that told me it couldn’t find my information in the system. This didn’t surprise me, since I hadn’t pressed any buttons yet, but whatever. I pressed “1” a whole bunch of times until I was connected with a human voice in Tech Support.
I explained my problem to Tech Support, who asked me questions like, “Is your computer on?” before transferring me to the next level of techies.
The next guy I talked to was able to solve my problem instantly, and was very keen to tell me that my cable service was fine; it was my firewall that was wonky. His solution was simple: call somebody else.
(There’s a whole other story in here about trying to call the firewall’s Tech Support people and them demanding $3.99 per minute to talk to a real person, and me laughing at that until I hurt myself, and deciding instead to try their online support, which was a questionable course of action since the problem at hand was a lack of internet connectivity, and a resulting instant message conversation with a techie in Bolivia who had misplaced most of his verbs, and me giving up on Tech Support altogether and eventually figuring out the problem my own damn self. But that story raises my blood pressure, so let’s leave it.)
That first weekend of connectivity issues aside, my new high speed internet was
marvelous. To a Gen X web designer who has been slogging by with dial-up for the last 10 years, this was like Christmas. Data streams were flying, bandwidth was racing, and the internet was that much shinier for it.
My new cable modem was installed in late April. By late May, I hadn’t received a bill yet. I also couldn’t log into my online Cox account to check the status of my bill, because it required an account number...which was on my first bill. Which I hadn’t received yet.
I also had realized that I never got that free web cam they promised me when I signed up. I had been so distracted by the sparkly new internet, as if somebody had just put a mirror in my cage, that it had completely slipped my mind.
I took a deep breath and decided to call up Cox Customer Service again, with my list of questions.
And I thought
Verizon was bad.
After dialing the 1-800 service number, I got that same message about not being able to find my account information. Whatever. The first person I spoke to was a woman from Billing.
“WelcometoCoxCommunicationsCustomerServicehowcanIhelpyoutoday?”
“Hi. I just had high speed internet installed, and I was wondering when I would receive my first bill.”
“Do I have permission to access your account?”
“Yes.”
“When did you have the service installed?”
“Four weeks ago.”
“Oooh. You should have gotten a bill by now.”
“I didn’t.”
“Well, you should have.”
“Alright. But I didn’t. And I can’t get into my online account to even check to see how much I owe.”
There was much clicking and “hmm”ing as she took my information and looked things up on her computer. “It looks like they didn’t put your initial charges on your first month’s bill. So, they just didn’t send you one. I don’t know why.”
“Ah. Okay.”
“...”
“So, when can I expect the next bill?”
“At the end of the next billing cycle.”
Helpful, this one. “And that would be...?”
“Sometime this month.”
Oh, for the love. I give up. “Okay, well, can I at least have help getting into my online account so that I can review my bill?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not able to help you with that. I’ll have to transfer you to Technical Support.” She did not sound sorry at all.
“Oh. Alright.”
Before I had even finished my sentence, there was a loud
click as she put me on hold. The patented Your-Call-Is-Important-To-Us elevator music was so quiet that I was actually leaning into the phone, pressing it hard into my ear. I didn’t want to miss any information prompts; this was my internet, my lifeline. This was important. My ear was turning white.
After nearly five minutes on hold, a guy in Tech Support picked up.
“WelcometoCoxCommunicationsTechnicalSupporthowmayIhelpyoutoday?”
“I was just transferred from Billing. I’m having trouble getting into my online account information. I get an error message when I try to log in.”
“Do I have permission to access your account?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have access to the internet right now?”
“Yes.”
“I want you to do the following for me, please.” He was speaking very slowly. He was clearly a talker-downer, used to dealing with people who tried to get HBO on their microwaves. There were several minutes of “please type the following into your web browser: w-w-w-dot-omaha-dot-cox-dot-net,” and the like. Christ. This was going to take forever.
After a lot of “Yes, I see the little man in the corner” and “yes, I typed that,” and “yes, I’ve done that,” and “no, it still doesn’t work,” and “well, yes, that’s the error message I told you about at the beginning of this call,” he had apparently reached the end of his knowledge base. It was not a very big base.
“I’m going to go ahead and transfer you to the next level of Tech Support.”
“By all means.”
Click. This hold music was not as soft as the first time around. In fact, this hold music could be heard by the little old lady with a hearing aid who lives in the apartment above me.
“Welcome to Tech Support! I am Carlos! How
ARE you?!”
“I...I’m fine. I’m having trouble logging into my online account, though. Another Tech Support guy transferred me to you.”
“Do I have permission to access your account?”
“Yes, please do.”
“What kind of problems are you having?”
“I get an error message when I try to log in.”
“I don’t really know why they transferred you to me. This is not the kind of thing I usually handle. I’m going to transfer you to Customer Care.”
“Uh, okay.”
“Have you talked to more than two people?”
“Ever?”
“Today.”
“You are the third person I’ve spoken to on this call.”
“Oh, I’m sorry about that, ma’am.”
“That’s okay.” (It really was okay. I had no idea at that point that I was only through 30% of the support people I would be speaking with on this phone call.)
Click. More hold music. This porridge was juuuust right.
“WelcometoCoxCommunicationsCustomerCarehowmayIhelpyou?”
“I’m trying to get into my online account. It’s not working. I get an error message.”
“Do I have permission to access your account?”
“Yes.” I wonder if anybody ever says “no.”
“Did you set up your online account?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have to sign up for the online account before it becomes active.”
“Well, how do I do that?”
“First, you have to log in.”
“Here’s the thing about the error message: it’s an
error message. It doesn’t let me log in.”
“You need to use the account number from your first bill to set up the initial account.”
“I haven’t received my first bill yet. That’s sort of why I want to get into my account. So I can see how much I owe.”
“How long ago did you have the service activated?”
“Four weeks.”
“And you haven’t gotten a bill yet?”
Sigh. “No. But Billing is working on that.”
“Well, you need that account number in order to activate your account.”
“Can you just give me that number?”
“I don’t have that authorization. Let me transfer you to someone who can get that for you.”
“Sure, why not?”
Click. I had stopped paying attention to the hold music. I was also beginning to lose track of time. It’s kind of like sensory deprivation that way. My ears were starting to go numb.
Suddenly, a very young-sounding man’s voice caught my attention.
“Hellooooo?”
“Um. Is this Cox Customer Service?”
“Yeah.” Is he high?
“Er…alright. I was just transferred to you from someone else. I’m having a problem getting into my online account.”
“Well, that’s what I’m here for. I am here to take care of you.” He sounded like he was sidling up to me in a bar.
“Right. Well, you see, I had the internet installed in April, and I haven’t gotten my first bill yet—”
“You haven’t?”
“Well, no. But somebody is taking care of that. In the meantime, though, I want to access my online account. But I don’t have an account number since I don’t have my bill. Can you give me that number?”
“I am going to help you access your account by giving you your account number.”
“Er. Good.”
“Do I have permission to access your account?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He instructed me to a special webpage and gave me a number to input into the system. I asked him to hold on while I filled out the rest of the boxes.
“I am all yours… I am here to help you. You take your time. It’s what I’m here for. I am at your disposal. My resources are your resources.”
“You’re kind of creeping me out.”
“...”
“So, I’m getting an error message.”
“I need to transfer you to Tech Support.”
“But I just talked to them! They said—”
“Sorry, that’s all I can do for you here.”
“What about your resources?”
“Please hold.”
Click.
I was on hold for another five minutes while I contemplated, not for the first time, the inner workings of the Hold Music industry. Finally, a woman picked up the phone who sounded as if she just swallowed a bug, and was very angry about it.
“CoxCommunicationsmayIhelpyou?”
“Hi. I’m having trouble getting into my online account.”
“Do I have permission to access—”
“Yes.”
Pause.
“Are you in Tulsa or Oklahoma City?”
“Pardon?” Didn’t she have access to my account?
“Are. You. In. Tulsa. Or. Oklahoma. City?” Apparently, she thought I was a retarded child, which I am not. I refrained from explaining this to her.
“Neither. I’m in Omaha.”
“Is that near Tulsa?” I choked a little.
“No. It’s in Nebraska.”
“Well, I’m in Oklahoma City.”
“Okay.”
Pause.
“So you need to talk to someone else.”
“This is where I was transferred to.”
“Please hold.”
Click. I dropped my forehead onto my desk with an ungraceful thump.
I was on hold for another eight minutes. I was transferred to Customer Service in the Omaha office. Again. I explained my problem, granted permission for them access my account, and said, “Yes, please transfer me. That would be so awesome,” all without lifting my head from the desk. Twice.
When Tech Support finally picked up again, I didn’t even let the guy finish his “CoxCommunicationshowmayI—” before I started talking. There was no anger in my voice—just utter, utter sadness.
“Help me. Please. You are the ninth person I’ve talked to on this phone call. I have been transferred to people who didn’t know what I was talking about, and people who didn’t want to talk to me. I think I was even transferred to people who don’t work for Cox Communications. I can’t get into my online account. I’m getting an error message. I’m giving you permission to access my account. I’m even giving you permission to access my cell phone, legal, and medical records if it will help you make this problem go away. No, I haven’t gotten my first bill yet. No, I don’t know why. Yes, somebody is working on this. All I want to do now is get into my online account to make sure that I don’t owe so many back fees that when people run a credit check on me in the future, all that pops up onto their screens is a skull and crossbones. I will do anything you want me to in order to make this issue go away. Because if I have to be put on hold one more time, or re-explain myself to one more service representative, I’m going to have to set fire to my home office, and I don’t have renter’s insurance.”
There was a pause.
“Let’s see if we can’t solve this problem for you, ma’am.”
“Let’s.”
From there he asked me several questions, tried several solutions, asked several colleague’s opinions, and finally got my online account to work properly. He did not put me on hold once.
“You are my favorite person today,” I told him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Is there anything else we can do for you today at CoxCommunicationsTechnicalSupport?”
I thought about the still-missing web cam. “No, I think that’s all I can handle for today.” I never wanted a web cam anyway.
Flowers and a cubic zirconium necklace, on the other hand...
