Showing posts with label Letters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Letters. Show all posts

Monday, March 22, 2010

Open Letter

Dear Census,

I was on your side. Why are you doing this to me?

When my raging Republican father told me that the Census was a government ploy to enter our homes and give all our personal information to corrupt ACORN workers, I calmly defended you. When Michelle Bachman popped up urging me not to answer the Census, I threw things at my own television. And when my mother said that despite what I thought about the usefulness of Census data, it was still a huge waste of money, I again explained to her your value.

Please stop proving my mother right. It is painful to me.

Two weeks ago I received a letter in the mail with a return address of "Census 2010." I was genuinely excited to have received my very own Census form. I was going to answer every question just to spite my parents. Also because I love public health and understand the ramifications of frikkin' Census data. So imagine my surprise when I opened the letter, pencil in hand, to find that it was not a survey. Rather it was a letter explaining that in the next week or so, I would be receiving a Census survey. Um...okay? That was a waste of whatever in God's name postage costs this week. And I shudder to think of what you spent sending that letter to every household in America. Particularly because I am of the opinion that those members of society least likely to answer the Census accurately and completely (i.e. The Teabaggers...God I love that they call themselves that) are going to need more than a letter outlining the way the Census benefits our society to change their minds. Pretty sure they're immune to facts. And Glenn Beck is taking down social justice too, so it's all downhill from here.



(I could only watch about 3 minutes of this before I choked on my own rage.)

Anyway, I thought the letter was dumb. I put my pencil down and awaited the (way too) heralded arrival of my actual census form.

About 5 days later, it came. I got the short form. None of the questions that my father feared were destroying America were even there! And I was so looking forward to telling Barack Hussein Obama my life story! In the end I put my and Tom's names in the little blanks, confessed to being totally uninteresting in the ethnicity department, and mailed the stupid thing back in. How anti-climactic.

And then today I got a postcard in the mail. From the Census Bureau. Letting me know that a few days ago I should have received a request to participate in the Census. And that it was important that I respond. You know what's really important? Not sending $3 worth of postage for no reason! Holy crap! I support the Census. I love that it saved me a lot of leg work on papers in grad school. But I do not love that it's making my mother do her "I told you so" dance via telephone.

Not cool Census Bureau. Knock it off.

Thanks,
~Sam

Friday, January 30, 2009

Open Letter

Dear National Grid,

I am a paying customer of yours, partaking in both your electrical and natural gas services. If I had any choice at all in the matter, I would get a waterwheel and tell you to go screw yourselves. My electric bill DirectPay option is set up to withdraw from an account that I no longer replenish. So, the well has finally runneth dry and I need to change my payment options. Because National Grid swallowed up the company that used to provide my electric services, I went to your website to reset my payment options. Apparently the natural gas and electric divisions of the company are separate, and to inconvenience me in the maximum amount possible, you use separate account numbers to represent the different services even though they are for the same customer. Thanks so much for that.

So, I have my account information for my natural gas billing, because I receive monthly email statements. My electric bill is also supposed to be paperless, but I never receive them. So, I just have my account direct-pay and hope that you don't overcharge me. Such is my faith in the goodness of man, and my laziness about resetting any options. Unfortunately recently my outdated account became overdrawn as my electric bills have finally used up all the money. So, I need to reset the directpay to draw from a different account. Enter me putting my fist through a wall.

I come home today with the intention of accomplishing Operation Directpay Reset. I go to the national grid website. Of course I don't remember any of my login information- or what I thought the information was, it wasn't. So, I go to the "Forgot password" form. Apparently my username is incorrect. So I go to the "Forgot username" form. It asks me to enter my email address affiliated with the account. I do and it says that "Email addresses should be in the form address@isp.com". Umm...duh? I know what an effing email address looks like...and furthermore, I know what MY email address looks like. So, obviously, your company has no idea that I exist...probably a remnant of your hostile takeover of my former provider.

I have no choice but to call the company. I know it's not going to be pleasant, I know it's going to take forever, but it has to be done. Because overdraft charges suck. So, I call. First I have to listen to a 5 minute announcement about a power outage that doesn't apply to my area. Fine. Then we get to the automated operator. He reads a menu, I choose an option. He reads another menu, I choose another option. I have to listen to 4 different scripts before the phone starts ringing. At this point, I'm informed that all operators are (shockingly) busy assisting other customers, but they have this great system where they'll call ME back when they're ready. Great. Sign me up. I enter my information and wait 20 minutes for a call back. Which is fine because honestly this game is like crack.

When the phone finally rings, it's another automated operator. "We're calling for...(recording of me saying my name). Please press 1 when this person is on the line." I immediately press 1, and I kid you not am placed on hold. The old familiar sound of "All operators are busy assisting other customers, but your call is important to us. Please stay on the line." Didn't I have you call me so I didn't have to listen to this?!? The phone finally rings through to an operator and all of a sudden the line is dead. Dead. I was disconnected. At this point I have spent an hour trying to switch the credit card billing information on my electric bill.

So, I go back to the website. I try alternate emails and passwords (even though I know which email address should work.) After 3 tries, the system locks me out. I close the window, I'm still locked out. So I have no option but to call back. I call and again hear the message about the power outage. No amount of button mashing will get me around it. I again get the automated menu. I swear and yell in the hopes that you have one of those systems that recognizes when the caller is pissed. Apparently you do because the automated guy apologizes to me and immediately puts me on the phone with a person in billing.

Billing makes sense, right? I'm trying to update my automated BILLING option. I want to give you money. Payments and billing should be the right people, if your company made any sense. But it doesn't. On the other end of the line was the loudest woman in the world, totally pissed that I didn't have my account number ready.

Billing Lady: "You don't know your account number?"
Me: "I know my gas account number, I don't know my electric because I do online statements and I can't access my account."
Billing Lady: "Those are totally separate accounts."
Me: "Okay, so what do we do?"
Billing Lady: "What's your social?"

So she finds my account and then asks me what I need. I tell her I need to update my DirectPay.

Billing Lady: "Oh! That's customer service. Customer service does that. We don't do that. Your account number is 123455432324 (spouted off quickly without even asking whether I had paper and pen handy, which I didn't), call the 800 number then option 2 then option 4."

Does she offer to transfer me? Does she help me in any way? Of course not...God forbid the payment department have anything to do with helping you make a payment.

I called back, listened to the outage message, hit 2 and then 4, ended up having to listen to the menu anyway because hitting numbers didn't get me to the right place. I eventually screamed "CUSTOMER SERVICE" and a couple f-bombs and was placed on hold for a representative. I didn't opt to have them call me back because that obviously is a ploy. When given my estimated 20 minute wait time on the phone, I took into consideration the fact that my next payment wasn't to be deducted until February and decided to give the blood vessel in my forehead a break. After 10 minutes on hold, I hung up and screamed into a pillow.

I guess I'll call back tomorrow. Or stop using electricity. Because seriously, I hate your company.

Thanks for nothing,
Sam

Friday, November 23, 2007

In Case of Emergency

"Hello, you've reached the some transplant center in Canada. Our office hours are from 8 AM until 6 PM Monday through Friday. Please leave a message and someone will respond to your call during office hours. If this this an emergency, press 2."
*2*
"That is an invalid option. Our office hours are from 8 AM until 6 PM Monday through Friday. Please leave a message and someone will respond to your call during office hours. If this this an emergency, press 2."
*2*
"That is an invalid option. Our office hours are from 8 AM until 6 PM Monday through Friday. Please leave a message and someone will respond to your call during office hours. If this this an emergency, press 2."
*2*
"That is an invalid option...."
OH FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY!!

So, at 3 AM, I composed a short note to Canada.

Dear Canada,

I hate you. I hate that you don't have a national computer database for transplant patients, because it means I have to call and speak to people on the phone giving the same information over and over at the speed of snail drool because half of what I say doesn't make it through the translation anyway. I hate your menu options in French because let me tell you, after 24 hours, I start believing that I understand it and that just makes everything worse. Also half your menu options are invalid. WTF? I'm glad my liver wasn't exploding or something. Geez.

I hate the people that answer the phone and attempt to speak English to me- I don't know how to say alkaline phosphatase in French, and they don't know how to say it in English, and in the end I have to spell alkaline phosphatase, and at this point in the morning I can barely spell my own name. Also why the hell do you need liver numbers when I'm offering you a heart! (Probably because you have no idea what alk phos is.)

But most of all, I hate you for making me use a calling card after being awake for 24 hours and 3 cups of coffee. Do you have any idea how many times I had to hang up and start again? Dialing 34 digits consecutively is a bit of a challenge when looking at the phone makes you dizzy. How about investing in a little bit of technology?

And an English-French medical dictionary.

Just to reiterate-I hate you,
Sam