Life Is About the Stories.
Moving to new, different communities involves meeting new friends. A few months ago we met our neighbor from across the street, we will call him Ernie. He used to be a car shop owner. Is also retired, just much more than me. We visit occasionally and tell stories over a glass of wine and a slice of cheese.
He told me about problems with his cable company. Good service, but their fees were going up and up without any logical explanation, except for pure greed. Ernie called them, they promised to take care of it. Time passed, but they didn’t. He threatened to change the provider. Still no results. Ernie liked the service, but not the price. Finally decided on one last phone call.
Here is how did it go.
After several prompts, he was face to face (?) in real time with a woman from customer service. Gave a couple of identifying information and she pulled his case number. She thought that the problem was solved, but he didn’t. Then she said these were the new prices and nothing she can do about it.
Ernie: “Please listen to me. There is no good reason for you to raise your fees. I will change my provider. But before I go, I need to speak to somebody higher in your department. I don’t care if it is Mister Time or Mister Warner. I am retired, and I have all the time to wait”. He was connected with the supervisor, who took care of the problem. At least for now.
I told him of my telephone encounter, when I was opening a new account with my internet company. All the usual data like name, address, social security numbers were given. Then she said we need to choose several identifying questions.
“Which country were you born? I told her. “How do you spell it”. I told her again. “What is your favorite singer?”. I said, “Pavarotti”. “How do you spell it?”. I gave up. “Lady Gaga,” I said. She knew how to spell That one. I wondered, what was the age difference between us.
I used to collect things, now I collect experiences.
The most important things in life aren’t things.
Anthony J D’Angelo
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