UNFRAKKINBELIEVEABLE

WASHING MACHINE: 2

RICCIE : 0

How else can I write about this but to come straight out and just write about it?!
So I get a three day weekend. I don’t remember the last time I had one. I’ve played, rested, written, gone to class, enjoyed Church, read, unplugged…and…did a load of laundry this morning. A normal thing. I was so proud of myself because I actually did a load BEFORE the basket was overflowing and I had to go on a supersearch for a clean pair of jeans.
I thought I was feeling better this morning.
I decided a nice leisurely soak was in order.
So I did just that. Complete with all the smell-good stuff I’ve restocked on lately. For no one else but me.
And then.
I pull my jeans out of the washer.
Pair by pair.
And.
At the bottom of the washing machine.
All nice
and pretty
and clean
and soaked
was my brand new cell phone.
Lovely.
That’s only the beginning. I looked at the damn thing for a good while, trying to decide if I was going to laugh at myself or strangle myself. Memories of going to class last night and stuffing my phone in the pocket of my blue jeans flashed through my tiny brain. I finally let out an irritated roar and slammed the washer door down.
What to do? What to do? I’ve just gone through this song and dance with my company. I’ve used my exception upgrade on a phone I really didn’t want to get twice. I don’t have the bucks to shell out for a new phone.
Problem solver-solve thy problem.
I had just unwittingly become one of my own customers. What the frak to do?
Today I bounced around between two companies. It’s amazing, because I work for a Fortune 50 company…and I got an up close and personal view of what my customers go through when something similar happens to them. First off, I take full responsibility for my stupidity. I’ve dragged around a cell phone since the early nineties. I’ve never, ever had anything happen to any of them. ANY of them! And this year, in the past thirty days or so, I’ve washed not one…but TWO of the frakin SOB’s in the washing machine.
This is embarrassing to write but I must give kudos where they are due. Our major competitor treated me like royalty. Hell yes, I explored all of my options. ALL of them.
So here’s how it went down.
Their store was first on my list this morning. I was on a fishing expedition; just wanted to see what the line would pull up. In less than ten minutes I had four people talking to me, including the store manager. Very, very knowledgeable and helpful. I told them my situation, minus where I worked. I never let on where I worked. I got an offer on a PDA that really made me think, along with a complete explanation of all the services and charges (I already knew this part…it’s my job to know the competition.)
Armed with this information, I visited my guys next. What I got was a new understanding of my customers. The first cor store I went to was a complete waste of my time. They wouldn’t even talk to me about options…simply told me to shell out 600 and some-odd bucks or break contract. WHAT?! I was never asked for my phone number or any personal information so they could identify me…these guys had no idea who they were talking to or how long I’ve been a customer. Now that sounded like I think I’m some sort of big-shot. I don’t think that way at all. It’s just that if you call me with a problem the very first thing I’m going to ask you is your number so I can get an idea of who I am dealing with and what I can do for you. Makes sense, right? Evidently I’m the only one who thinks that way. The two stores I went to let me go without so much as asking my name. In a mild flare up of irritation, I told the last salesperson point blank…’It would be far cheaper for me to break contract and go with (our competitor)’! She didn’t even bat an eye. And no, I didn’t start the conversation this way…nor did I want to end it this way. It took a while to get there. Sheesh!
The offer for the PDA stayed on my mind. So this afternoon I went back to the store. By now I’m developing a stress headache. Which can turn into a migraine at any time. The store manager was still there. He actually remembered my name. SHOCK. We talked again for a good while. I told him I was still in contract with ‘the other guys’. He threw in an air card for free. And let me know broadband access would be in my town by the end of March.
Which is more, much more than I can say for my guys. We’re dropping the ball here.
I finally told him where I work.
He smiled. How do you like your job? he asks me.
I love my job, I tell him.
Come work for me, he tells me.
I laughed a bit. Yeah, right.
I’m serious, he tells me. I can really use someone like you. Do you have a resume?
Uh…I’m not in the habit of carrying one…no…
He gives me a business card. Get your resume to me.
WHAT?
I walked out of that store a hour later with a really nice PDA, a free air card, and my wallet still intact. It’s going to be cheaper for me to break contract. And I’m still working for my company. Although…I’m giving it some serious thought. It’s nice to feel wanted.
My boss and I are going to have one helluva chat tomorrow.
Can my company still fix this? You bet they can. But I have my doubts. And, in the meantime, I’m enjoying the hell out of playing with these new ‘toys’.
Crap like this only happens to me. What an interesting life I lead. (Uh…yeah.)