Comcast: They're Dumbtastic

Its me, your favorite snarky wheel, with yet another customer service bit of venting.

Here is the text of the e-mail I sent today to Brian Roberts, CEO of Comcast, my current cable/internet/phone service provider.  My patience with them officially at an end.

Mr. Roberts:

I have been a Comcast customer for years. And let me be clear, I am a Comcast Customer because of all the overpriced and underdelivered services available in my area, Comcast is the lesser of all the evils.


I work from home. I write, I blog, I copywrite for businesses, I consult. As a self-employed person with a home office, nothing is as important as my phone and internet service. NOTHING. I cannot post to my blog without the internet. I cannot speak with clients without a phone. I cannot receive e-mail inquiries or communications from potential clients unless my service works. I cannot research possible freelance jobs, or e-mail companies seeking services.

To say that every day I am without service has a direct negative impact on my livelihood is not an exaggeration.

My service on both phone and internet went out on January 1. After over 35 minutes on hold with your customer service line, I was able to report the problem and schedule a technician.

For the record, could you do SOMETHING about the flipping horrific-turn-my-brain-to-jelly-make-me-all-stabby muzak on that line? Since it is never less than 15-20 minutes of my life I’m losing, it would be preferable to not also want to stick a fork in my ear to make it stop. Also? I know that many questions can be answered online. BUT I CANNOT GET ONLINE BECAUSE YOUR SERVICE IS NOT WORKING, so perhaps you might not want to tell me about it every forty-two seconds.

But I digress.

Tech Number One, we shall call him Lazy, arrived on time, did a cursory check of my equipment inside, went outside for 20 minutes, came back in to tell me that all of my equipment was fine, but that the aerial was having a problem and that he would need to schedule a Line Call, which is a different set of technicians. Once that work was completed in my area, he said, my current equipment set up would be fine and everything would work great, and that it usually took about 48 hours to get the Line Tech out for something like this.

When he left, my modem was flashing weird lights and my phone and internet continued to be kaput.

I called later that afternoon to confirm that the Line Call had been requested, and get an ETA on service restoration. The customer service person asked what my modem was doing, and when I told him, he asked if I would push the standby button on the front. I did. Phone and internet came back. Genius Tech Boy Lazy had neglected to try PUSHING THE BUTTON ON THE FRONT OF THE BOX before he left.

The customer service fellow also told me that I had a bad modem history, and that the modem should have been replaced, especially since I am paying for the fastest possible internet service, and they appear to have installed a modem that DOES NOT ACCOMMODATE THAT SPEED. Awesome. Have been paying for services for over 2 years, with equipment that cannot give me the service I am paying for. Nice.

He proceeded to set up a second tech appt, so that my modem could get replaced. Also? Confirmed that no Line Call had in fact been scheduled.

I had service for nearly 4 hours before it went out again. On advice of the customer service guy, I tried a hard reset of the modem, and was able to restore service, except it still would shut down anywhere from 15 minutes later, to as much as two hours. That’s always fantastic. Nothing to inspire confidence in a client like your phone call getting dropped in the middle of a meeting because the equipment is cranky.

Tech Number Two, we shall call him World Weary, arrived the next day. He replaced the faulty splitter on the inside, went outside and replaced nearly everything, including the place where there were clear animal bites on the wires, and came back in to inform me that Lazy had very obviously not really bothered to look at anything or really do any work, including not placing the Line Call request. World Weary appeared very much to have frequently been to houses where other techs had, to put it loosely, not really done anything. He asked if I had been offered any free services or an inconvenience credit. I had not. WW rolled his eyes and said he would take care of a $20 credit to my account for my troubles. He also said he did agree that a Line Call for the area was necessary, the whole neighborhood was being affected, and that he would put it through as urgent, and that hopefully it would fix everything. He attempted to replace my modem, but was unable to keep it online to speak to the service so he did a hard reset on my current model and left it in place.

My service worked for exactly twelve minutes after he left.

He had given me the direct number for his supervisor so that I could attempt to prevent the brain damage being caused by my having to spend so much time listening to the On Hold music over at 1-800-Comcast.

I called and left a message asking if the Line Call had been scheduled, and if I could get an ETA on when the service would be done.

I never got a call back.

I continued to hard reset my modem every hour or so to try and knock out small chunks of work.

I called and left Supervisor another message. And another. And one on his cell phone. And two on the number of his colleague. Apparently their phones are currently out of service as well.

I called the main number again, tried to ignore the music (really? With the screechy saxophone, REALLY?) and got yet another patient customer service rep. She understands my pain. She sees that it is supposed to be fixed by the next day. She will credit my account for the lost days of service.

Will she credit my account for the LOST INCOME? Not so much.

I am assured that everything will be fine by 1pm the next day. That evening I call back (do not kill self/others while listening to hold music) to find out what happened to my 1pm service will be back. I am told that they are working on it, and will credit me another day of lost service. Will they credit me the lost brain cells? Not possible.

The next day I receive an automated courtesy call saying that they have fixed a problem in my area. I find this hilarious, as I receive this call ON MY CELL PHONE, since my land line IS STILL NOT FUNCTIONAL. I call back. I reiterate, for the millionth time, what my problem is, that I have been without service for 11 days, and that despite the courtesy call about the area problem getting fixed, my problem still exists.

You need a new modem, she says. And then she pauses. That’s funny….you shouldn’t have this modem anyway.

Everyone on the PHONE knows that I have been paying for service I could not receive for 2 years and that no one should have installed this modem on my service, the tech team, they know nothing about this.

I set up a third tech visit so that they can come replace my modem with the right type, and preferably one which functions.

The next night I receive an automated message that they have fixed a problem in my area, and any service calls I have scheduled have conveniently been automatically cancelled on my behalf. Sadly, the problem in my area (mainly my HOUSE) is not at all fixed. I call back. I am starting to mentally write lyrics to the ridiculous music. “weeee are the Comcasts…. Weeeee have elbows and asses….but weeeee don’t know which could be which…..ain’t your life a bitch? Weeeee cannot get you working…..our techs their jobs are shirking….but weeeee don’t really care...if your clients go elsewhere…cause whatever we may be….we’re not as bad as ATT….so you cannot leave us….and you cannot peeve us….la di da di da. Tra la la la la.

Needless to say my original tech appointment? No longer available. But they are happy to credit my account for two more days of non-service.

Tech Number Three, we shall call him Least Useful, arrives at the end of yet another useless work day for me. He arrives, comes inside, informs me that I have the wrong modem (GENIUS) and tells me that he doesn’t have one with him. Because why would the tech bring a new modem to the tech call set up for the specific purpose of REPLACING MY MODEM? He leaves to call around to see where the right modem is. He returns. Apparently NO ONE in the greater Chicagoland area has this precious special modem of which I have need. Someone, he says, will call me to let me know when they can come back to install the right modem.

Tomorrow will be 14 days of no service. I have had to reset my modem twice while writing this note, and hope that it stays working long enough to get this missive out to you.

I would wait eagerly for a response, but at the moment, it’s really hard to reach me.

Stacey Ballis

Apparently I'm not the only one having some issues....

Bruce Wagner designed them a new logo...



Michael Pellegrini posted this:



These people had a rally:



And my personal fave...




Yours in Temporarily Online Good Taste,
The Polymath

The Bitch is Back

Today is a very happy day.

Not because it seems that Summer finally hit Chicago, after we have been enjoying an interesting and unexpected Fall since Memorial Day.

Not because I finally turned in the last set of rewrites on my new book, GOOD ENOUGH TO EAT, coming out in September of 2010. (and yes, I know that is over a year away, but I do hope you will take advantage of the intervening time to read my first four books…hint hint)

Not even because I have, for the first time in over two months, spent six consecutive nights in my own glorious bed.

But because today, my dear chickens, your Polymath returned to the miraculous world of Tivo.

You may remember that some months ago I lost my Tivo in a cable upgrade DVR disaster. If you weren’t with me for that dark time, you can read about it here.

I missed my little dancing Tivo guy, and that lovely and soothing bah-looping sound it makes when you hit the buttons, and the bright colorful screens…but mostly I missed the simple, intuitive, dependable functionality. I missed that it knew if I had already seen the most recent episode of Burn Notice and therefore did not record an additional four showings. I missed that it only took seconds to search for and find a show using the onscreen typepad. I missed that it could record more than 20 shows before getting full. I missed the sensitivity of the rewind and fast forward functions, and the auto jump back and the thirty-second skip, making skipping commercials a seamless delight.

On the one hand, I totally recognize the complete insanity and snobbery of being so committed to a piece of equipment that any other version just won’t do. I get that it makes me a little ridiculous, especially since it is a device designed to help me watch television, which isn’t exactly the most noble or attractive pursuit.

On the other hand, I am a creature of loyalty. I have had the same hairdresser since 1992. I have had the same manicurist since 1998. I’ve lived in the same apartment since 1994. I’ve purchased a series of five Honda Accord Sedans in a row since college, and while I switched up colors and was delighted to upgrade to the Hybrid version, it never occurred to me to research a different make or model.

Probably the best story to explain this devotion quirk I have revolves around something as innocuous as paper napkins.

My whole life my mom has stocked the house with Vanity Fair brand paper napkins, both the dinner and cocktail size. I literally cannot remember another paper napkin ever entering the house, with the exception of the napkins you buy for kids’ birthday parties that follow whatever the theme of the party happens to be.

One day I was in the grocery store with my ex-husband (and yes, that is ex, because I may be loyal, but not to a fault, and sometimes you do have to alter your commitments) and he looked at the list and reminded me that we needed paper napkins.

I went to the paper goods aisle, and alas, there were no Vanity Fair napkins to be found. I returned to him three aisles over.

“Where are the napkins?” He asked, looking at my empty hands.

“They didn’t have any.”

He looked deeply perplexed. “What do you mean they didn’t have any?”

I wondered what alternative meaning he might have derived from my previous sentence. I tried again. Slower. “They were all out of napkins. I’ll have to pick some up this week at a different store.” That should do it.

He was undeterred. “I cannot believe that they are all out of paper napkins.”

Now I was annoyed. “Why on earth would I make something like that up?”

He aimed the cart in the direction of paper goods at a quick clip, positive that I was wrong and eager to prove it, and I shuffled after him, secure in my own absolute rightness.

He waved his arm down the paper goods aisle at the myriad of brands, sizes, shapes, patterns and colors of the paper napkins which resided there in endless row upon row of lip blotting, hand wiping, pants saving papery goodness. He looked at me as if I had clearly lost my ever loving mind.

I, being somewhat smug in my correctness, pointed sharply at the one gaping hole in the wall of napkins, labeled clearly, Vanity Fair.

“See. They’re all out.” Duh, big red truck.

“Well, yeah, of THAT BRAND. Just get different ones!”

He has got to be kidding. “But we use Vanity Fair.”

“Well, they don’t have any.”

“Exactly.”

“So we’ll get other ones.”

“Um, no. I’ll just get some later this week.”

“Why?”

“Because those are the ones we use.”

“But WHY?”

And I couldn’t say. Because I don’t really know, other than those are the ones we always used, they are a good size and weight and they don’t disintegrate unless ribs are involved, and they are clean and white with no ugly patterns, and they don’t make your hands and lips all linty when you use them, and THEY ARE THE ONES WE USE and to get anything else is just not done.

We then broke down into hysterical laughter, scaring the crap out of the other people in the store, howling like banshees at the ridiculousness of it all. But as funny as I knew it was, I still couldn’t put any of those other napkins in the cart, and every time he tried to convince me to do so or I tried to explain it, we just fell apart again. He eventually gave up and the next day I went to a different store and stocked up, and I just never allowed us to run out ever again.

I do recognize the irony that some nine or ten years later, I no longer have that particular husband, but I do have those particular napkins.

So you can see how it is totally in my pathology, after a decade of Tivo and the little dancing guy and bah-looping, why it might throw me into chaos to switch to something else.

Tivo, I just couldn’t quit you.

And so, to celebrate my big cocktail win in NYC, and the prize money that came with it, your Polymath got herself a brand spanking new Tivo HD XL, which not only does all the stuff I loved in my old Tivo, but also…

Records two channels at once.
Can hold up to 150 hours of HD programs, but 1500 hours in standard def!
Allows me to watch stuff from my Netflix Instant Queue right on my TV!!
I can rent stuff from Disney and Amazon, and watch stuff from YouTube (which, by the way, has everyone seen the Sound of Music thing from the Antwerp train station, and if you have not, OMG!)

And it bah-loops. Be still my heart.

Sorry Comcast. I appreciate the service and how nice and competent your technicians have been, but your DVR sucked out loud, and I cannot tell you how happy I was to see it walk out the door today.

Oh Tivo, My Tivo

I'm a Tivo girl. My folks got me my Tivo many years ago for my birthday, and it changed my life.

So I'm really conflicted about the fact that I am waiting at home for Comcast to come and upgrade my internet, change over my phone, and install my new DVR cable box. Which is making me a little panicky, since I'm an idiot and scheduled them to come the day after I get home from a week in NY, and so I am frantically trying to watch a whole week of recorded shows that I missed before they come pull the plug.

I have to say goodbye to my beloved Tivo, and it makes me sad. I like the little dancing TV logo guy. I like the soothing colors of the screens, and the ease of finding programs and the little bah-looping sound it makes when you fast forward through commercials.

Bah-loop, bah-loop, bah-loop. In slightly increasing pitch. Like a little song. Bah-loop, bah-loop, bah-loop. No-more, bore-dom, for-you! Do-not, watch-the, dumb-ads! Find-out, what-hap, pens-next!

It has become code in my family, when dad, who (like all dad's) hates to give up the remote, but is also not as quick on the fast forward as his daughters might like, falls asleep at the wheel and lets the commercials run.

"Um, bah-loop, bah-loop, bah-loop there dad."

or "You aren't bah-looping very well."

or "Do you need me to bah-loop this for you?"

The DVRs don't bah-loop.

But then again, at the moment it takes all freaking day to download something onto my computer, and the best bundle included the cable upgrade as well as the internet, and as much as I love my bah-looping buddy, it is an old model that can only record one station at a time, and this makes for some serious Sophie's Choices in the television department.

Law and Order SVU vs. Criminal Minds? Law and Order Criminal Intent vs. Lie to Me? Good lord, it's like asking me to choose between chocolate and caramel, between mashed potatoes and risotto.

The DVR can record two stations at once.

So, of course, can the fancy new Tivo HD XL, which can not only do two stations at once, but can record up to 1500 hours of programming. Mmmmm. Fancy new Tivo. How I covet thee.

But sadly, it is a $500 machine, not including the lifetime service package, and that just doesn't take precidence over, say, rent. Can't watch TV unless you live indoors.

So as of today, I'll lose my Tivo and all that lovely bah-looping, and the colorful screens, and the little dancing logo and clockwork gears and join the world of the DVR.

But someday, Tivo, I'll be back. Cause I have the feeling that I just can't quit you.