“Please, can you help me?” I asked the customer service rep for my cellphone carrier over the phone. “Please?”
Her breathing was heavy and tainted with sulfur. I could smell it over the phone, so help me, I could smell it. This was my third attempt to get my current cellphone unlocked so that I could transfer to a competitor. Someplace that smells like lavender and honey.
“Sure, no problem!” she lied. “Let me just press some keys on this computer a bit.”
“What does pressing keys do?” I asked.
“Oh, absolutely nothing! I just like the sound of it. Now, did you bring me any soul tainted blood?” she said.
“No, I did not.” I forgot to give them blood, but they haven’t. They’ll get their blood one way or another. “I just want to change cell phone carriers, please.” I have sinned.
“Hmm, well that’s not good. It looks like I can’t help you. Maybe you can call back ten or twelve times and then we can think about helping you.” She hung up. A puff of smoke came through my speaker.
I called back, call number four. I decided that this time I should give them “a piece of my mind.” I began yelling.
The power of Christ compels you! Unlock my phone!
“Sir. Sir! Calm down,” Cindy the rep said. “This is only the fourth time you’ve called, and we still don’t have your blood deposit. Please call back many more times before we will help you.” Click.
That one was quicker than the others. I think I’m on some sort of list. The kind of list that locks not only my phone but also my soul.
But my request is so simple. I just need my phone unlocked so that I can switch carriers. We are not under any contract, have had the phone long enough, no problem.
On calls four, five, and six the representatives don’t even bother talking. They just cackle on the other end of the line before disconnecting.
But the seventh call I thought we were making progress!
“Sir, your phone is already unlocked,” Beelzebub said. I could hear him eating the souls of puppy dogs while talking to me.
“No, it’s not,” I replied. “I’m checking the website now. The new phone company has checked. Nothing is unlocked! Why are you lying to me?”
“Sir, it’s what we do. Now, I’m showing that it’s unlocked. It’s right here in red and white.”
“It’s not unlocked!” I said.
“Are you saying that our computer system is wrong!” I could hear him gulp down the limbs of the puppies and wash it down with the tears of a child. “How dare you, sir! How dare you!” Then he hung up on me.
Seriously, that part is completely true, as well as the puppy eating bit. I know because they billed me for it.
On the eighth call, I spoke to the echo of the damned. My cellphone company called me on the ninth call. It was just heavy breathing.
During the tenth phone call, I begged. I was broken.
“Please! (sob) Please, for the love of God! Help me! Unlock my phone! (sob)”
“Are you crying? Any chance you can gather those tears into a plastic bag and mail them to me? At your expense, of course.” Her name was Racheal, and I don’t think she was a customer service rep at all. I think she worked in acquisitions.
“Yes, yes, whatever you want. Please just unlock my phone. I want to quit the phone company. Please.”
“No.”
I took to social media. My wife posted to social media. I called again and again.
I talked to supervisors, managers, the assistant to the regional manager. I performed rituals to summon phone unlocking gods. I prayed to whoever would listen only to find out that no one was listening. I emailed the CEO. The freaking CEO. The only answer I got back was to see if I knew where any good illegal dumping sites were located and if they were monitored.
With a scratchy voice, deprived of the will to even eat a donut, I once again called after yet another email denying that my phone was unlocked while also assuring me that it was unlocked in the same sentence.
“Beth,” I pleaded. “Beth. I need your help. No one can help me, Beth. Please, unlock my phone so I can switch carriers. Please, Beth. I can’t go on, can’t.”
“Oh, your phone is unlocked. No problem. It’s been unlocked for a whole week actually. We just didn’t tell you. You could have switched at any time. Isn’t that super?” I hear Beth smile through crooked and evil teeth; the sound produced makes your heart flutter unevenly.
“What? Beth? For realsies?”
“Yup, for real. Your blood deposit went through just fine. Took a while but we got it. Thank you for your business.”
I hate you, Beth. I hate you so much.
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Previously Published on Hossman-at-Home
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