Sprint = Meh.
June 20, 2008
I hate having unused aggression. It always works out that when I prepare for a big fight with someone over money or something that they seem to cave in a lot easier than I plan on - either that or I just look all dangerous when I shove the door in and have that red faced 'look' in my eye and they just decide to not mess with me. Like today at the nearby Sprint office... though 'nearby' in this case is something of a misnomer.
I drove all the way up there in this heat to argue about a thing on my bill for advanced 'internet' services on my phone which I expressly cancelled last year. I had even called in to talk to a real human and they said 'sure, it's off your bill' and looking at my most recent bill, I was shocked, shocked, to see it was still there. And more expensive than previously.
I suppose if I hadn't got into the habit of just letting it auto-pay through the online deal I'd have seen it sooner but still. I said I didn't want it, since Sprint apparently forces you to pay a 'metered' fee for every kilobyte in addition to the access fee (which had secretly grown to fifteen (15) bucks a month, and wasn't about to stand for having paid for it when I told them no! Bad phone company.
So I get there and wait for a good fifteen minutes regarding this fifteen dollar a month charge I've been paying, and I'm feeling all kinds of surly. Fifteen kinds, in fact. So my disdain was there when I explained the situation and the guy said 'okay'. And then applied a mammoth credit to my account for what I'd been paying inappropriately. I mean huge; I won't be paying for my cell service for a while.
So that was that. Deflated and with too much rage driving me, I had naught to do but head home. Well, I picked up lunch on the way too, 'cause I was too tired at that point to cook any of my own food. And imagine my surprise, my bile found an outlet, in the form of the guy in the drive through before me, who took over five minutes to make what turned out to be a three dollar order. I timed it, I'm weird like that.
Although after four minutes I was leaning out the window yelling BLAH BLAH BLAH at him. I don't think he liked that very much, as his angry middle finger indicated. But jesus, after five minutes, hang it up and go inside or - and here's an idea - say YES I THINK THAT IS ENOUGH BECAUSE I AM AN INDECISIVE DOUCHE AND HAVE NO SOUL, MAY I DRIVE THROUGH PLEASE. Drive Thru: Not Rocket Surgery.
As a completely off tangent aside, it turns out that not only is there a ginormous influx of people in town for the College World Series, but there's also a ginormous influx of people in town for the Omaha Gay Pride Parade thing going on tomorrow. If the inbred goons from work are any indication, the only thing that can ensue from this imminent bedlam is what we in the business call 'hilarity'.
Assuming the motivation to fight that much traffic strikes me, I may have photos.