A downside of the job that C has is that he starts at 0500hrs, which means he gets up at 0300hrs, which also means, by 2100hrs Morpheus (the Greek god of Dreams, not the guy from "The Matrix") is calling.
I decided that it only made sense that I get up when he does, so that we could have the same sleep schedule. This doesn’t always work, some nights I want to go to bed early, other nights C heads to bed early.
... like last night.
C had gone to bed early and I stayed up to read for a bit, only to fall asleep on the couch while reading. Having woken up around 2130hrs, I brushed my teeth and headed to bed.
As I crawled into bed I was greeted by the cheery, and oddly, seemingly awake voice of C saying hello, followed by a line of inquiry I really didn’t understand.
"What are you doing here?"
"I sleep here."
"But aren't you getting up?"
"NO, I'm coming to bed!"
"What time is it?"
"Nine-forty."
"Oh. I guess I hung up on S or something. I thought it was the alarm."
Apparently, S had called my cell phone at about 2130hrs, C had been asleep for about an hour (the phone sitting next to him since it acts as our alarm clock) so when he answered he thought it was the morning alarm. C’s sleep addled brain heard a loud noise coming from the “alarm clock” next to the bed, so he merely pressed a few buttons to “snooze” the alarm and then set the phone back on the bedside table.
He passed me my phone and I saw a text message from S.
I sent her a text and then got out of bed to go downstairs and phone her.
I guess that's the down-side of using your cell phone as an alarm clock; when it actually rings, you get confused.
Sometimes multi-function technology has a downside.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Phoney Hope
I hate making phone calls [to strangers]. I would rather give a talk in front of a room full of strangers. I would rather have dental surgery without an anesthetic. I would rather...
It is an irrational dislike, I'll admit that. Still, I will put off making phone calls for as long as possible.
One call I had been putting off since late November. I needed to register my new treadmill.
Now, I really like my treadmill - and unlike some people who buy treadmills, C and I use ours, daily. I want to have my treadmill registered, I want it to be under warranty support, it matters to me. The only catch, was, since I don't live in the USA and the company is based in the USA, the online registration doesn't work for Canadian customers. So a phone call was required in order to register our new treadmill.
So I finally bit the bullet and called the 1-800 number - and waited and waited...
and waited and waited...
and waited and waited...
75 minutes later, I FINALLY got to talk to someone and said I wanted to register my treadmill. He asked me what State I was in. I said I’m calling from Canada, his response was "I will give you the number of a sales rep up there".
Um, no?
To which I replied, "I don’t want to BUY a treadmill I want to REGISTER the one I have recently bought."
"'Register'?" He asked as if it was a foreign word. [Was my Canadian accent throwing him off??]
"What to you mean?" he asked.
"You know," [how do I explain] "...for warranty purposes, so YOU know I own the thing?"
[I have to admit, the one nice thing about being on a phone at this point is I am happy that he can't see me rolling my eyes]
To which he said, “Oh. Ok. Hang on...” And off I went on hold again….
and waited and waited...
10 minutes later I was talking to a guy with the personality of a trout and the perceived energy of a slug.
[Sigh….]
After a few minutes on the phone with him I realized this guy was not hired for his personality, skill or speed.
I gave him my name, slowly, I gave him my name again, even MORE slowly. "Sorry", he said, between my first and second recitations of my name, "I can't write that fast."
[Write? Shouldn't you be typing this into a computer somewhere?]
"Do you have an account with us?" "No," I replied. "Can I have your postal code?" I gave him my postal code and waited....
and waited...
This was slowly turning into the MOST painful phone call I have ever had to endure!!!!
I was beginning to think his computer system must be run by crippled hamsters (in broken hamster wheels).
[Why do I feel like it is his first day on the job!?!]
I kept trying to stifle deep sighs while I roll my eyes and stop myself from saying; "Why is this taking so DAMN LONG!!!" At least I wasn't paying for the call, now over 90 minutes in duration...
[...and I wonder why I don't like making phone calls...]
"All right," he drawled, "I'm gonna have to put you on hold for a minute. I just gotta check on something..."
"Ok," I said, no bothering to ask what the problem is...I was almost afraid of the answer.
And once again, I was on hold...
It’s really too bad that the Treadmill Company doesn’t have more than three 30 second commercials. Variety would be welcome. I resisted the urge to either memorize or heckle the ads, though I feared I would have them running through my head for the remainder of the day.
[Sigh… I should have just stayed in bed today.]
"Al-right," he returned, sounding almost animated, "Can I git yurr address?" I give him my address, beginning to feel hopeful, but remembering to speak slowly.
My optimism was not rewarded.
Silence descended...
I could hear the occasional computer key tap and mouse click.
Deep sigh, from the other end of the phone line. [No kidding, that's what I've been trying NOT to do.]
“Aw, why is this not working?” he complains. [Good question, should you not know the answer?]
More sighing, more complaining... [His externally, mine internally]
"Ok, I'm having problems sittin' up yurr account. It don't work well for Canadian accounts." I resist the urge to mention that I can't do it Online either and that was why I was stuck talking to him in the first place and why, in this day and age of global shopping are US and Canadian customers treated differently?
"Okay...", I prompt.
"I'm gonna have to git the system guys to do something before I can complete the account." [Is that their technical designation?] "Can I git yurr phone number and I can call you back?"
My heart sinks a bit... "Well, actually, I'm calling from work and I don't know if you can call me at this number. Can I call you back?"
"Uh, ok, just call the 1-800 number and ask for Jawn." [It is probably spelled "John"]
Grumpily I asked him for a direct line because I had already spent 90 minutes on the phone trying to register the darn thing and I refused to be on hold again.
Armed with the CORRECT 1-800 number (the one I called first that morning, the one I sat on hold for over 75 minutes was apparently the WRONG 1-800 number) AND "Jawn's" extension, I hung up, my heart filled with trepidation.
One hour later...
He had suggested I call back in an hour and so I did. “Jawn” couldn’t get the treadmill swapped over to my name – again blaming it on the fact that I'm Canadian. [Yes, how dare I help the US economy by purchasing an American treadmill.] "It'll take the Systems Guys a couple of hours for them to fix it." [Do you have to go through this for EVERY Canadian customer?!?] "Could you call back later?"
"How much later?" I ask through clenched teeth.
"Call back at two-thurdee," Jawn replies. "And what time is it with you now?" I ask, trying to remain civil and once again being happy that he can't see my facial expressions.
"Twelve-thurdee." [Ok, two more hours.] "Ok, I'll call back..." [SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!]
[I am SOOOOO looking forward to that call.]
[Sigh.]
Two hours later...
TIME CHECK:
Having started this lovely task at the fresh & hopeful hour of 08:30hrs, been on hold and on the phone with TWO separate and yet equally unhelpful service reps for almost TWO hours, followed by an hour's hiatus waiting for "Jawn & the Systems Guys" to do their thing, only to discover at 11:30hrs that they need two more hours to do their thing. I have now had my two-hour hiatus and I am making yet one more call to the Treadmill Company Service Department. Throughout this ORDEAL BY PHONE I have been working, cursing and being glad that on one else was at work today and in earshot of my colourful venting.
I dial the number - it rings, the voicemail comes on: "Press 1 for.." I press 5, I press 5 again, (having learnt the last time that pressing 5 once was not enough). I type in Jawn's extension, it rings. He answers. I identify myself...
"I couldn't complete yurr registration, 'cause you didn't give me the date you bought yurr treadmill." [YOU NEVER ASKED FOR IT!!] I calmly gave him the date I bought it AND the date it was delivered.
"Al-rightee, yurr all done!" He almost sounded animated again. "So the treadmill is all registered now?" I ask cautiously."
"Yup." "Thanks"
"Is there anything else I can do for you today?"
[Can you give me the last five hours back? Can you take away the painful process I just had to endure? Can you restore my sanity?]
"No," I say. [You have done ENOUGH!]
... and you wonder why I hate making phone calls to strangers?!?
It is an irrational dislike, I'll admit that. Still, I will put off making phone calls for as long as possible.
One call I had been putting off since late November. I needed to register my new treadmill.
Now, I really like my treadmill - and unlike some people who buy treadmills, C and I use ours, daily. I want to have my treadmill registered, I want it to be under warranty support, it matters to me. The only catch, was, since I don't live in the USA and the company is based in the USA, the online registration doesn't work for Canadian customers. So a phone call was required in order to register our new treadmill.
So I finally bit the bullet and called the 1-800 number - and waited and waited...
and waited and waited...
and waited and waited...
75 minutes later, I FINALLY got to talk to someone and said I wanted to register my treadmill. He asked me what State I was in. I said I’m calling from Canada, his response was "I will give you the number of a sales rep up there".
Um, no?
To which I replied, "I don’t want to BUY a treadmill I want to REGISTER the one I have recently bought."
"'Register'?" He asked as if it was a foreign word. [Was my Canadian accent throwing him off??]
"What to you mean?" he asked.
"You know," [how do I explain] "...for warranty purposes, so YOU know I own the thing?"
[I have to admit, the one nice thing about being on a phone at this point is I am happy that he can't see me rolling my eyes]
To which he said, “Oh. Ok. Hang on...” And off I went on hold again….
and waited and waited...
10 minutes later I was talking to a guy with the personality of a trout and the perceived energy of a slug.
[Sigh….]
After a few minutes on the phone with him I realized this guy was not hired for his personality, skill or speed.
I gave him my name, slowly, I gave him my name again, even MORE slowly. "Sorry", he said, between my first and second recitations of my name, "I can't write that fast."
[Write? Shouldn't you be typing this into a computer somewhere?]
"Do you have an account with us?" "No," I replied. "Can I have your postal code?" I gave him my postal code and waited....
and waited...
This was slowly turning into the MOST painful phone call I have ever had to endure!!!!
I was beginning to think his computer system must be run by crippled hamsters (in broken hamster wheels).
[Why do I feel like it is his first day on the job!?!]
I kept trying to stifle deep sighs while I roll my eyes and stop myself from saying; "Why is this taking so DAMN LONG!!!" At least I wasn't paying for the call, now over 90 minutes in duration...
[...and I wonder why I don't like making phone calls...]
"All right," he drawled, "I'm gonna have to put you on hold for a minute. I just gotta check on something..."
"Ok," I said, no bothering to ask what the problem is...I was almost afraid of the answer.
And once again, I was on hold...
It’s really too bad that the Treadmill Company doesn’t have more than three 30 second commercials. Variety would be welcome. I resisted the urge to either memorize or heckle the ads, though I feared I would have them running through my head for the remainder of the day.
[Sigh… I should have just stayed in bed today.]
"Al-right," he returned, sounding almost animated, "Can I git yurr address?" I give him my address, beginning to feel hopeful, but remembering to speak slowly.
My optimism was not rewarded.
Silence descended...
I could hear the occasional computer key tap and mouse click.
Deep sigh, from the other end of the phone line. [No kidding, that's what I've been trying NOT to do.]
“Aw, why is this not working?” he complains. [Good question, should you not know the answer?]
More sighing, more complaining... [His externally, mine internally]
"Ok, I'm having problems sittin' up yurr account. It don't work well for Canadian accounts." I resist the urge to mention that I can't do it Online either and that was why I was stuck talking to him in the first place and why, in this day and age of global shopping are US and Canadian customers treated differently?
"Okay...", I prompt.
"I'm gonna have to git the system guys to do something before I can complete the account." [Is that their technical designation?] "Can I git yurr phone number and I can call you back?"
My heart sinks a bit... "Well, actually, I'm calling from work and I don't know if you can call me at this number. Can I call you back?"
"Uh, ok, just call the 1-800 number and ask for Jawn." [It is probably spelled "John"]
Grumpily I asked him for a direct line because I had already spent 90 minutes on the phone trying to register the darn thing and I refused to be on hold again.
Armed with the CORRECT 1-800 number (the one I called first that morning, the one I sat on hold for over 75 minutes was apparently the WRONG 1-800 number) AND "Jawn's" extension, I hung up, my heart filled with trepidation.
One hour later...
He had suggested I call back in an hour and so I did. “Jawn” couldn’t get the treadmill swapped over to my name – again blaming it on the fact that I'm Canadian. [Yes, how dare I help the US economy by purchasing an American treadmill.] "It'll take the Systems Guys a couple of hours for them to fix it." [Do you have to go through this for EVERY Canadian customer?!?] "Could you call back later?"
"How much later?" I ask through clenched teeth.
"Call back at two-thurdee," Jawn replies. "And what time is it with you now?" I ask, trying to remain civil and once again being happy that he can't see my facial expressions.
"Twelve-thurdee." [Ok, two more hours.] "Ok, I'll call back..." [SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!]
[I am SOOOOO looking forward to that call.]
[Sigh.]
Two hours later...
TIME CHECK:
Having started this lovely task at the fresh & hopeful hour of 08:30hrs, been on hold and on the phone with TWO separate and yet equally unhelpful service reps for almost TWO hours, followed by an hour's hiatus waiting for "Jawn & the Systems Guys" to do their thing, only to discover at 11:30hrs that they need two more hours to do their thing. I have now had my two-hour hiatus and I am making yet one more call to the Treadmill Company Service Department. Throughout this ORDEAL BY PHONE I have been working, cursing and being glad that on one else was at work today and in earshot of my colourful venting.
I dial the number - it rings, the voicemail comes on: "Press 1 for.." I press 5, I press 5 again, (having learnt the last time that pressing 5 once was not enough). I type in Jawn's extension, it rings. He answers. I identify myself...
"I couldn't complete yurr registration, 'cause you didn't give me the date you bought yurr treadmill." [YOU NEVER ASKED FOR IT!!] I calmly gave him the date I bought it AND the date it was delivered.
"Al-rightee, yurr all done!" He almost sounded animated again. "So the treadmill is all registered now?" I ask cautiously."
"Yup." "Thanks"
"Is there anything else I can do for you today?"
[Can you give me the last five hours back? Can you take away the painful process I just had to endure? Can you restore my sanity?]
"No," I say. [You have done ENOUGH!]
... and you wonder why I hate making phone calls to strangers?!?
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