Breaking up with Spectrum
Leaving Scientology is easier
After a month of mulling, this week, I finally switched internet providers from Spectrum to Verizon Fios, and boy, am I a happy camper.
I would’ve switched sooner, but Fios wasn’t available in my area, so I was stuck with Spectrum whether I wanted it or not.
On the few occasions I managed to speak to a living person, my interactions with Spectrum customer service left a lot to be desired.
About three years ago. I needed to upgrade my internet to a faster speed after buying an AppleTV box for my birthday. When I finally got through to a human being, he held me hostage for nearly half an hour trying to sell me Spectrum Mobile.
I kept explaining that I didn’t want mobile service, just faster internet, but he wouldn’t stop. Eventually, knowing we were never getting around to the purpose of my call, I hung up on him.
The asshole called me back.
At first, I thought he called to apologize and would offer to help me upgrade my internet speed. I was wrong. He picked up where he left off and continued trying to sell me on the magical wonders of Spectrum Mobile.
I hung up on him again, and the asshole called me back … again … to continue his spiel.
I ended the call and phoned Spectrum customer service again. This time, I asked to speak to a supervisor who finally, about 45 minutes later, set me up with faster internet.
After that experience, I wanted to kick the dust of Spectrum off my shoes and switch to Fios the next day, but it wasn’t available in my area yet.
Now it is. And because I’m a Verizon customer, I got a honey of a deal on 1-Gig high-speed internet.
The Fios technician came by yesterday morning and set me up with the fastest internet I’ve ever had. About an hour later, my new MacBook Air arrived just in time to enjoy my super-fast internet.
It was a banner morning!
Naturally, I couldn’t wait to call Spectrum to disconnect my ratty service.
Around noon, I called Spectrum, assuming it would be a quick five-minute phone call, in and out, and on with my day.
Boy, was I wrong.
Rather than simply canceling my service, the girl I spoke to tried to talk me out of leaving. She begged and pleaded. She offered me new, improved service — all the while demanding to know why I would want to leave Spectrum after all these years.
Sweet, merciful Zeus. And I thought the Spectrum Mobile knob-head was intolerable. At least he had a modicum of dignity.
It was a bit embarrassing.
After several minutes of listening to the girl’s desperate cajoling, I finally interrupted her and said, “Listen. We’re not married. I don’t owe you an explanation. I’m calling to cancel my [expletive] service. Just cancel my service and let me go on with my [expletive] day!”
Fifteen minutes into the call, I told her the oven timer was going off, which meant my lunch was ready, “So let’s wrap this up,” said I.
But she wouldn’t stop. Reading from a sales script, she launched into a spiel about their latest high-speed internet offer for only $39 a month. I set the phone on the counter to get my lunch out of the oven. In the distance, I could hear her tinny voice still reading from the script.
As I was getting my lunch on a plate, I heard a faint, “Hello? Hello?!” I picked up the phone and said, “I’m calling to cancel my service as of today. Will you do that or not?”
She said she would, but first, she wanted to see if I might be interested—
I cut her off saying, “Just. Stop. STOP! I am canceling my service. Now, just confirm that service is being disconnected.”
When she finally said my account would be closed as of that afternoon, I quickly thanked her. Before I could hang up, she launched into another futile attempt to get me to change my mind.
I disconnected the call and was surprised she didn’t call back to pick up where she left off. Fortunately, I work from home, so it’s unlikely she could sneak in and put my cat in a boiling pot on the stove.
I get it. I do.
It’s her job to get customers to sign up for more services. But that shouldn’t apply to customers calling to close an account.
I’m typically very polite and respectful when I call customer service. The people on the other end of the line are just trying to do their job, so I never take my frustration out on them. But with this poor gal, my politeness went out of the window. I even dropped an F-bomb or two during the nearly 20-minute call, which is way out of character.
Even when my marriage broke up, it wasn’t this fraught with angst and drama.
For heaven’s sake. At one point, I heard myself say, “Look, it’s too late. It’s over!”
I partly blame myself.
Initially, when she asked why I was canceling, I entertained the idea of telling her I was moving to London. While I typically avoid flat-out lying to people, in hindsight, I regret not saying it. It probably would’ve shaved a good 15 minutes off of that call.
Ah, well. Missed opportunity.
Now that I have super-fast internet and a brand-spanking new MacBook, I hope that my rather sparse posting here at Sweet Merciful Zeus will become a thing of the past.
On most days, after spending 4 to 5 hours doing work for my paying job, my poor Lupus-limited body can’t take another minute working at my desk, which is why I’ve been such an infrequent poster in recent weeks. With the laptop, I can be in my living room, tap-tap-tapping away from the comfort of my couch (as I am right now).
It also helps immensely that Photoshop moves like lightning on this MacBook. My 8-year-old iMac could no longer handle the bandwidth necessary for Photoshop. I would open the program, go downstairs and clean out the litter box, come back upstairs and wipe down the kitchen counters, maybe make a cup of tea, take a bathroom break, and by then, perhaps, if I was lucky, Photoshop would be open by the time I got back to my desk.
With my new MacBook, I click the Photoshop icon and BAM! It’s opened. That’s going to shave hours off of my work every week.
Any road.
Goodbye, Spectrum. Your business model sucks.
UPDATE
After all that drama, it turns out that the dozy sod I spoke to yesterday never closed my account. I checked this morning and, sure enough, my Spectrum account was still active.
So I called customer service again and this time I lied.
When asked why I was closing the account, I said, “I’m moving out of the country.” Worked like a charm. The entire phone call lasted less than 3 minutes.
And no. I don’t feel the least bit guilty.