Tuesday, May 25, 2004

AT&T. I hate you. The black viscous liquid pumping through your corporate veins bleeds the painful infection of... something... painful... bleakness... upon the world.

So, it's story time. Once upon a time, there was this guy, we'll call him "me" for our purposes here today. I called up AT&T to cancel a bill for a phone number that I did not own and had not for 2 years (the fee was actually for reconnecting long distance service to this line, which had been disconnected a couple of months earlier by me), and the phone was answered by an Indian sounding gentleman named Sam Williams. Sam, obviously having not perfected his American accent just yet, was quite indignant that I would want to disconnect their service again, having not signed up for it in the first place. Sam actually proceeded to insult my decision, insult me personally, and continually attempt to sell some sort of long distance as I effectlessly argued exactly what I wanted done, and for what reason. After about 20 minutes of being insulted by Sam, I told him "you can get this bill off of my record and cancel the service. That is what you can do." Sam then advised me he was going to transfer me to billing so this could be done. He transferred me back to the beginning of the queue. Upon getting another analyst, this time "John," who happened to provide a much better faked American accent, took my request and immediately forwarded me to a billing analyst. Thank you John.

No thank you AT&T. I hate you. I will never use your service again. You have now incorrectly billed me 5 or 6 different times, each time affecting my credit rating and wasting my valuable time. I'll curse your name to my grave.

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