Mrs. Parker and the 9th Circle of Hell

Hey Bob.

Greetings from one of Dante’s Circles of Hell …

Cocytus, if I’m not mistaken, where Satan himself resides, his leathery wings flapping eternally, producing chilling winds that freeze all to ice. And I hate cold.

Typing this by hunt and peck on my tablet, with much cursing. No ability to cut and paste, or to do much of anything, beyond elementary response.

It was a harsh month, but the last week rose to new heights – or depths, depending on perspective – of awesome awfulness. 18 hour days of frenzied washing, sorting, packing and unpacking; of toting that barge and lifting that bale; of tripping over boxes and stairs; of nervous, depressed cats who have abandoned their litter boxes in favour of duvets or other linens; of bruises, muscle pains, and the cracking and bleeding of hands; of a diet of fast food and a beer before collapsing – not into restful sleep, but simply a cessation of thought for 5 hours before rising and doing it all again – and an inability to find anything, including my shoes, leading to my now having worn fluorescent orange garden clogs for an entire week.

The Orange Clogs

But that’s just the fun stuff! We’ve also been without beds. I tried, but was unable, to attach a photo showing the slab of foam we have been laughingly calling ‘notAbed’, laid on the floor between two pieces of furniture (one a large gym machine that clangs if jostled if one were to try to turn over) with a third piece of furniture conveniently located mid calf, so that completely stretching out is not possible.  Good times!

On the bright side, I now have the beginnings of a book on how NOT to downsize and move in these halcyon days of 2016.

It has been such a horrific move that I can’t even get overly exercised over Trump’s presidential win. A pox on him and everyone who got him there. The people will have to live with the government they apparently want and deserve.

No, what really frosts my pumpkin is the incompetence and ineptitude – not to mention downright failure to care – that has left me without a phone or the internet, trapped inside for days on end, unable to leave to so much as buy milk for my coffee (I found the coffee!) that has had me in tears.

It’s 6 a.m. on Sunday, and we’ve just finished cleaning up the latest urinary ‘mistake. ‘ I am chairless, sitting on a box waiting to be unpacked, and surrounded by plastic drop sheets to protect that not yet baptised in pee, and Lord Farlsworth is alternating between expressions  of pained innocence and mournful howls at this hellhole he’s been brought to.

Just for fun, I’ve attached the text from Friday’s email diatribe I sent Primus about their part in this debacle..  please use your magic and make this into some semblance of a column.

If you need me, I’ll be cowering in a corner, awaiting an end to the horror, armed with paper towels and air freshener. You’ll recognize me by the orange clogs.

The Orange Clogs Again….

On Nov 11, 2016 4:47 PM, “Roxanne Tellier” wrote:

More 9th Circle of Hell ….

Nearly 16 years a happy, loyal customer, one that recommended your service to literally hundreds of people through my professional and personal comments – and all of that goodwill cancelled out in one week of incredible  – do you call it incompetence,when your CS can only parrot what they are told, and have no authority to escalate abominable  service?

Upon the sale of our house at 378 East Avenue, one of our first priorities was to ensure a non-stop home phone and internet presence So, we agreed that someone would be available at the new address, effective Monday Nov 7 from 8-5pm, even though that was a real problem, with our closing on the following day.

So, despite the  inconvenience,  I was here for that time period.

The next morning, we received  a call from Primus, apologizing for not coming. Could they come on Tuesday? No, as we’d moved ALL of our legal priorities to Tuesday, since we were assured they would be at the new house on the Monday. But ., ok …  Wednesday morning. Will do.

So, of course around noon on Tuesday, as we fulfilled our legal obligations, I got a call from  a Bell tech who said he was at the door of the NEW place, where was I?

45 minutes away, in Scarboro, as agreed, was where I was. I explained the situation , oh, ok he said.

Now its Wednesday and as requested, I am at the new place … awaiting a tech, unable to leave the house all day. No tech arrives.

So now, I still have no phone and no internet. And just to put a bow on the package, my cell phone dies. I am now completely unreachable, nor can I reach anyone. I am in communications hell.

Thursday. First thing, we call Primus for an update.

Time for an insert … why does your automatic voice responder ask for my phone number, and then ignore that info?  Why do your techs check our file, and seem oblivious to all that has gone before? Why do I have to repeat my tale of woe EVERY SINGLE TIME as though this is all new info? And why would I then believe ANY TECH who assures me that .. this time … THIS TIME … they will actually help me, and get  Bell tech  to my residence at the time and day they tell me?

I’m Charlie Brown, and Primus Tech Support is Lucy with the football … I’m done with believing they tell the truth, because they never come through. Nice voices, nice words …all lies.

So. It’s Thursday. We call again. No worries, we’re told. The support rep has a work order right in front of her … Bell will be there sometime before 5 pm.  EIGHT HOURS. I have eight hours to stay in the house. EIGHT HOURS – with an event I have to cover cross town at 5:30 pm, She assures me this nightmare is over.

Do I have to tell you .. it is not? That I wait and wait, and the tech never comes?

Now it’s Friday.We have been incommunicado for 5 days. It is 2016. This is unbelievable and unforgivable,

I call tech again.  The tech assures me someone is on the way and someone will call me back in 5 or 10 minutes to give me the specs.

It is now 3 pm. No callback, no installation,

I am beyond furious. I call for info, go through my whole story for the tenth time .. because apparently tech writes their notes in invisible ink … by this time, we both know that all of the assurances of any kind of service are lies, and this particular tech doesn’t even try to help. He’s given up as well. He gives me the field worker’s line number, but it’s no use … we’ve both given up. I can hear it in his voice, and my own.

I say, ok … that’s enough. We’ve escalated far beyond your capabilities.  I need to speak to a manager AND customer service. He transfers me. Josie answers. I dump the whole story on her, and finish by saying I need this escalated to her manager as a Code 1 customer retention emergency.

I listen to muzak until Josie comes back on the line. She tells me her manager won’t take my call because I am not the principle account holder.

OK  … I lose it. I start screaming DIE DIE as I smash the phone into the wall.

And I have no idea if or when I will ever have phone or internet service again.

I don’t want to tell you how to run your company, but you get a major FAIL from this customer.

=RT=

Roxanne’s column appears here every Sunday 

Contact us at dbawis@rogers.com

Roxanne Tellier has been singing since she was 10 months old … no, really. Not like she’s telling anyone else how to live their lives, because she’s not judgmental, and most 10 month olds need a little more time to figure out how to hold a microphone. She has also been a vocalist with many acts, including Tangents, Lady, Performer, Mambo Jimi, and Delta Tango. In 2013 she co-hosted Bob Segarini’s podcast, The Bobcast, and, along with Bobert, will continue to seek out and destroy the people who cancelled ‘Bunheads’.