The Uphill Slide

There is always something.

Mourning Time


My Fitbit is not working properly. It will not sync with my cell phone or with the computer. It has the wrong time. Maybe it is on the wrong time zone; no, it is off by hours and minutes. It has just stopped doing what it is supposed to do and what I want it to do. I just want what I paid for.

I searched forums for answers. One helpful person wrote that a call to customer service provided him with the very answer to my problem. Sign out of the app and sign back in. His Fitbit came back to the correct time and began to sync. Could it be that simple? It was not. Now I prepare to call the dreaded customer service. Maybe tomorrow or the next day.

A few weeks ago our internet was off. Before I called, I tried all the steps that they start with on those service calls. No luck. So I settled in for the call by sliding a chair over to the modem and plugging my laptop directly into the device. I dialed, and a woman answered the call. She apologized for my inconvenience; that apology was part of the manuscript. It was meant to relay the message that the company valued our business. I told her I had done those first steps, but we did them again anyway. Then she asked me to type in commands and the black box came up with messages that I did not understand. She asked me to read them, and then we did some more things like that. I commented that my husband could not have done these things if he had been on this call. “You are asking me to be my own technician,” I said. We were on the phone for an hour, and my internet was still not working. Finally, she asked me to read the model number from the bottom of my modem. “That is an old one,” she said. “It might need to be replaced.” OK, then replace it. “We have a modem and router combination,” she said. “I do not want that,” I said. “I just bought a new router last year.” “That’s all we have,” she said. Wait a minute! “Is there a charge for that combo device?” I asked. “Yes, there is a small monthly charge,” she said. So they would not update my equipment unless I paid them for more than I wanted and needed. They would not give me the best service and the service I signed up for unless I paid them more money. She asked if I wanted to set up a service appointment for the next day. I wanted my internet, so I said yes. Now she had to speak to my husband because his name was on the bill, and I did not have the account number. I paid the bill every month, but my husband had to give his permission. What choice did I have? I wanted what I paid for. I handed the phone to my husband, and he gave his permission. I think she said something about a satisfaction survey as we finished. What could I say? The representative was polite but not helpful in fixing my problem. Was it her fault that I had an old modem? Was it her fault that the company wanted to sell me more than I wanted and charge me for it? I knew that was not her fault; they did not care what she thought about their practices. Was it her fault that an hour of my life was gone? Pfft! It is so hard to separate your frustration with a company from that person on the other end of your call.

Do these companies not realize my life is on final countdown, and the last thing I want to do with seconds, minutes and hours of my life is to be on the phone talking to a customer service representative who in the final analysis does not have the answer I need?







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