Cingular: Raising the Bar. In a limbo contest.

Just a brief update tonight. I am for absolutely no accountable reason irritable and pissy tonight, so I don't much feel like writing anything. I'd get drunk, but there's no liquor in the house and I don't feel like walking to The Hub. Although I just might do so anyway; there'll be no going out tomorrow because I'll be working until 8 pm or later.

I'm pissed at Cingular. I broke the phone I had with Verizon. Now, I ultimately ditched Verizon because their customer service sucked balls and they kept dropping calls in the middle of fucking Tampa, and went with Cingular because A) my family members all have Cingular, so lots of free calls there, and B) Sprint, Alltell, T-Mobile, et al all suck for a variety of different reasons (most corporations suck) (tonight, everything sucks. Except this rant, which is both amusing and profane, and goes on at some length after the jump, concluding with important information for all friends, readers, well-wishers, family members, and charitable strangers).

But at least with Verizon, when I broke my phone, they gave me a new one under the insurance policy I paid for because I am prone to breaking and losing small objects. I walked into the store, said, hey, I broke my phone, and less than a half hour later I walked back out with a new phone, just like the old. No money changed hands (at least, not that I recall, and I tend to remember spending money).

Now, it appears I've lost my phone. I don't know where it is. Yes, my car's a mess, but I went through all the mess and I'd swear it's not in there. I couldn't find it at work. It's not at the gym, or outside the SECRET ROOM at the wing HQ. I've looked and looked in the house and cannot locate it. I tried calling it, several times--at work, at the house, in the car using my work cell phone--but never could find it and by this time the battery will have drained, so it's off anyway wherever it is. Al Gore probably stole it, the bastard. Him or the underpants gnomes.

I went up to Cingular on Tuesday (the day of the 11-minutes-of-useful-work) to try to get a new phone, like I had at Verizon. No dice. I have to call this phone number (with what? My phone's gone) at the insurer (an outfit called lock/line, no capitalization because e.e.cummings is SO in these days) and deal with them, and they will "send" me a phone. The guy at Verizon says it only takes two or three days, but I was visibly agitated and he probably just made that up. What am I supposed to do for two or three days?

I do still have a land line at the house, so while I was at home this morning (long story of no interest) I tried to call. Now, I have a 1983 model Bell telephone. The kind with a rotary dial. Yes, there are still people out there with these phones. It is perfectly functional, and I'd like you to show me some other c.1983 appliances that are still as good as the day you received them free from your utility company just for applying for their service.

Anyway. I call lock/line. The recorded voice begins, as usual, by asking if I want to continue in English or Spanish. I'd actually prefer Creole, thank you very much you racist bastards. When I make no entry, the recorded voice asks the same question again. And a third time. Most companies ask twice, then send you to an operator, which is all I want anyway. When I'm using a touch-tone on these stupid messenging systems I just keep hitting 0 until I get an operator. I'm not a fucking monkey; talk to me!

So after the third round of English/Spanish, the voice says, "Your call will now be ended." Just like that. Fuckers hung up on me. What, do they expect I'd be calling from the cell phone that they insure when I wouldn't be calling them at all unless it was either broken or missing? Idiots.

I called from work. I had to think about it for a while, but I finally selected English, rather than Spanish. Then I had to go through about four more menus--punching 0 got me nowhere--asking me whether I'm a Cingular customer or not, though by the end of it I was starting to doubt whether I should be. Finally I get into a queue to wait for an operator. While I'm in this queue, like at Disney World or something, instead of music I get the same voice telling me what I should expect.

"Keep your hands inside at all times!" said the voice. "If you are calling about a warranty item, a $5 fee may apply! Please remain seated until the train comes to a complete stop! If you are making a claim under insurance, there is a minimum $50 deductible!"

Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa, what the FUCK was that last statement? A fiftyfuckingdollar what? Deductible? On cell phone insurance? Do these people think they're fucking Allstate? I've replaced at least four separate cell phones under insurance with other service providers (Cellular One, USCellular, and Verizon), and have NEVER paid more than five bucks for the privilege. Now these quisling dopesmokers think I'm going to give them $50? Yeah.

In order to make something positive come from this experience, and since there is NO WAY IN HELL I will ever pay a $50 deductible on a $79 cell phone, I'm writing a $50 check to UMCOR instead; I'm sending it to their Liberia mission, since I think in the Katrina aftermath (to which I've already donated) a lot of the long-standing missions have been forgotten. Feel free to join me; call it a Cingular protest.

Incidentally, I am without cell phone. And since I'm too cheap to pay for long-distance, I really don't have access to a phone at all right now. Since I'll need a phone available while I'm on vacation I've got to resolve this situation sometime in the next week. I'd prefer not to do it at the Cingular store, where the jackass working the desk tried to tell me he couldn't sell me anything for less than $279 (though the $79 model I purchased was still hanging on the display wall), so if anyone happens to know a better way to resolve this (since we must assume the former phone will never be found), please leave a comment.

And I'm off to The Hub. Hope I don't get mugged on the way!