I Hate Verizon


After I pulled a lamp cord out of the wall the other night, my computer modem mysteriously stopped working.

I called Verizon. (My phone still worked, somehow.)

An annoying automated voice asked me a million questions, and I dutifully answered them.

Finally, I got an actual person on the line and he asked me all the same questions!

I answered them all over again.

He made me do a million things to test the modem. Plugging in cords, pulling out cords, switching cords, then plugging them in again. I complied, almost in tears, while begging for a service visit. He declined that option. They must be told, “Don’t ever send anyone! It costs money!”

Literally 17 minutes later, he asked me which of the modem’s lights were on.

“None,” I said. “I can’t get it to work, remember? That’s why I called.”

“Oh,” he said, “if I knew the lights weren’t on, we would have saved all this time!”

“Is this a joke?” I shrieked. I was one question short of a complete breakdown.

Again, I pleaded for a service visit, but the guy wouldn’t budge. Instead, he said my modem was outdated and he’d send me a new one.

I knew that probably wasn’t the problem, but I still gurgled, “Free?”

“Yes,” he swore.

The next day, I got an email from Verizon. They’d shipped my modem — to my old address!

I called Verizon to reroute it, but I couldn’t get a person on the phone! Just the automated voice repeating, “I’m not understanding what you’re saying.” I tried for 20 minutes!

I also tried to reroute it through the UPS tracking system, but after they made me register, it was impossible to make the change despite an hour of trying.

They kept asking for numbers they hadn’t supplied me with, above bar codes that weren’t there.

I hate UPS, too.

Wasn’t life easier before technology? I bet Verizon charges for the new modem.