jasonenglish1.com

The most memorable thing I’ve written in the last year was a running diary of my Sprint customer service nightmare. Memorable because it ended up saving me almost $700 in fraudulent charges. And memorable because I get an email a week from a similarly disgruntled Sprint subscriber begging for help (I have a much higher success rate than the customer care reps about which I’m bitching.) This was originally posted on YesButNoButYes. A much bigger megaphone.

My Marathon With Sprint
June 22, 2007

How the 108-year-old telcom giant stole my money, ruined my weekend, and drove me insane.

My Friday night was ruined before it had begun. Between 7:45pm and 1:15am, I would talk to seven different Sprint customer service representatives. My bill, which was $630 higher than expected, would be deemed both “an obvious computer error” and “completely valid.” I would be transferred and hung-up on and stranded on hold. One time I’d even be called back. I would be told I was the victim of a scam; I would be accused of concocting one.

I would be told nothing could be done and I would be lobbied to upgrade my text-messaging plan. I would strangely bring up the Saddam Hussein hanging, just making conversation.

And I would keep a running diary to document the madness.

6:52pm: While watching a documentary about the 1999 St. Louis Rams on my iPod, I receive this email from my wife: “Sprint has charged you another $600 for the BlackBerry you are now reading this on.” This kills the good feelings born from Kurt Warner’s improbable rise.

7:30pm: Now off the bus, I practice verbally jousting with Sprint Customer Care. I play all roles. Talking to yourself in your car is not crazy, I decide.

7:39pm: At home I see the mess that is my Sprint bill. But at least I can read it. Our first three bills were printed in Spanish.

7:45pm: Dialing Customer Care.

7:46pm: I am told all customer service representatives are busy assisting other customers.

7:48pm: I am told all customer service representatives are busy assisting other customers.

7:50pm: (Again.)

7:51pm: I am now talking to Anna, who is most likely from Canada. (I will later learn that everyone I spoke to was in Canada. They’re probably all in the same room, cackling with glee.)

My Opening Statement: “Before we begin, I want you to know how angry I am. I’ve been yelling and I’m shaking. My eyes are tearing up. But I know this isn’t your fault. So I’m not going to yell or swear or give you a hard time.”

Her Rebuttal: “What is your phone number?”

My measured eloquence is lost on all-business Anna.

7:56pm: I make my case, going back to December 29th. That night I called the Sprint 800 number to inquire about upgrading to a BlackBerry. My sales rep put me on hold for fifteen minutes, during which I watched the run-up to Saddam Hussein’s execution. He returned – “he” being the sales rep, not Saddam – and offered me a great deal, similar to the deal new customers would receive. The BlackBerry 8703e for $139.08. He even threw in a headset and protective case, provided I sign a new two-year agreement (effective that day). I supplied my AmEx number; he shipped my phone. Transaction complete.

7:58pm: Anna tells me it sounds like telesales fraud. These reps work on commission, she said. On occasion, a rep will “invent” a deal, accept payment, but never enter any notes about the sale. Sprint knows I ordered a BlackBerry on December 29th and knows they received $139.08, but does not connect the two events. Thus the $600+ in charges a month later.

She says she will contact her supervisor to delete the charges. This is the last I hear from Anna.

8:05pm: “Hello, tech support. How can I help you?” Ugh. I repeat my story. She, in fact, cannot help me at all.

8:29pm: Sprint has two types of hold music. Classic rock hits, like “Penny Lane” and “Glory Days,” and mindless looping elevator music designed to drive you crazy. The last twenty minutes were scored by the latter. Now it’s Beth who gets my spiel. “I’m sorry sir, but the deal you were offered was not approved. These charges are completely valid.” The insinuation is that I was trying to pull some sort of fast one.

8:45pm: I’m waiting for Beth’s supervisor. It’s an understandably busy night at Sprint, since today’s the day most customers received their monthly statement. Since these statements have a pliable relationship with reality, people are pissed.

8:58pm: Beth’s supervisor John asks me to start over.

9:12pm: I introduce the term “bait & switch” to our discussion. I know this not from legal training, but from an episode of Growing Pains, where Mike Seaver is taught the practice by Jerry (Andrew) Delish while working at an electronics store. I believe Perfect Strangers once had a similar plot.

9:14pm: John asks me to give him a minute while he reads the notes on my account.

9:23pm: He should have asked for nine minutes. John promises to sort everything out and call me back. (”Give me an hour or two.”)

10:15pm: At my wife’s urging, I drink three glasses of champagne. It’s all we had in the fridge. I drink while watching the latest episode of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. Am I the only fan left?

10:38pm: While I am zoning out before the TV, my wife is diving headlong into research. This is one of the things I really love about her. Whenever we’re wronged, she immediately gets busy creating our case. She tells me about companies that will buy out my Sprint contract. About complaint-filing procedures of the Better Business Bureau (we’ll have to file with the Kansas chapter). About “Ask Asa,” one of those shame-on-you local news segments. I’m glad she’s on my side.

11:34pm: Realizing John is not calling back, I try again and reach Javier. The champagne has loosened me up, and I notice a rise in casual swearing (”I’m getting fucked here,” not “You’re a fucking ass hole.”) Javier does not seem to mind. He “appreciates my situation,” which I find mildly insulting.

11:53pm: After a lengthy conversation with his supervisor, Javier informs me there’s nobody around who can erase the fraudulent charges. I’m transferred to BlackBerry sales.

12:08am: I learn it’s against Sprint company policy for customer care operators to reveal their last name.

12:20am: Linda tells me this is obviously a computer error, expresses amazement at their collective inability to help, and says there’s nothing she can do. So she transfers me.

12:26am: Another operator, another explanation, another waste of time, another trip to the on-hold queue.

12:48am: I’ve been on hold for forever when call waiting clicks. It’s John, who promised to call back hours ago. He has good news, he tells me. He can give me $129.99 off the $630, plus an additional $150 rebate. This is a nice gesture. But it’s like a thief leaving behind your driver’s license after stealing your wallet.

12:59am: I am seething. I wildly inflate the readership of this website, my friends’ law credentials, and my ability to influence public opinion.

1:14am: I make one final offer – an offer to end this. I’ll send back the phone, I propose, if they waive the $400 early termination fee (me plus my wife). Let’s all move on. John says one thing has nothing to do with the other. I hate him and his narrow mind. I start yelling before just hanging up.

[I do not sleep well.]

8:34am: Awake and ready for one more try. I reach a very nice woman whose name I forget. She offers me the same deal John did last night, plus a $75 service credit (for the six hours of nonsense) and a $100 mail-in rebate deal I’m sure won’t work.

I’m still getting screwed, but I’m also ready to concede. Sprint wins. Great job guys. They didn’t earn $44 billion in revenue in 2006 by admitting errors – or worse, fraud. I fought the lawless and the lawless won.

8:45am: “Was I able to resolve your issues 100%?” What a great way to end my ordeal.

My only hope is that someone who works for Sprint will read this and feel ashamed and embarrassed. Maybe try to make it right.

If you’ve been screwed by Sprint — or by any cell phone provider — use the comments section to vent. It’s cathartic.

Isn’t there room in this market for a responsible company? One to position itself as the carrier not out to screw you? If you know of one, email me.

[A few days later, Sprint did make it right. Read the continuing story here, from the bottom up.]