A RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE

I was just on the phone canceling FOR THE SECOND TIME some stupid customer protection service on a credit card. I tried to cancel it two months ago and I had to endure a surly response from my customer service representative — the definition of oxymoron. The first cancellation didn’t go through (probably because my surly representative thought he would gain points by delaying the termination — a little paranoia is part of Manhattan survival skills) and I am on the phone again, with serieuse attitude coming from the Mr. Customer Service who is not the mere definition of oxymoron but is the true personification of oxymoron. Definitely a call center in the US because no one can fake that decidedly American accent. So, there’s a silver lining — the abusive person was a fellow American and his job was not outsourced. I don’t know if I would have remained as calm (a stretch) as I was had I realized that an American job was lost so I could be berated in this manner. He reminded me that the call was being recorded as was the call from my prior excellent customer service experience. I said that I was glad it was being recorded because I would love everyone and anyone to hear the tone and manner of the customer service representatives. We concluded our business and we ended the phone call. Now that I blog I don’t have to regale my partner, who needs me to rant like she needs a hole in the head, and she can have a little less stress this evening. Thank you to everyone who reads this because I (and my partner) owe you big time.