Posted by wenchwit on April 24, 2009
Not a secret that ComCRAP and I do battle…and fairly frequently. The difference between me and the hotshots in “excutive customer care” is that I am way more street-wise than their blowhard jerkwads hell-bent on placation and schmooze.
So, I chased down Rick Germano AGAIN and left him the last message I will ever type to Comcast and what will be my last contact until the day I march my ample arse happily into their office to turn in their equipment…
The site for contacting The Big G is pretty much a joke…although there is not much humor to be found in ANYTHING ComCRAP, but if you are possessed with morbid curiosity, have a look: http://www.comcastvoices.com/about.html
Funny thing…I guess I am not really being persecuted. The OVERWHELMING MAJORITY of ComCRAP customers have been subject to the same crappy services and questionable business practices. Go figure.
Here’s my last letter to ComCRAP to Mr. Germano:
I have written to you TWICE previously…all in the name of ongoing/continual issues with Comcast’s service in my area. I was placated by being a given a number for Brent XXXX in Portage (XXX-XXXX) as a resource when I have trouble with my service, as well as having been called by Mr. Will Rosa regarding the FIRST letter I sent. Here’s the deal, hotshot…the service has not improved. I lose my internet connection EVERY SINGLE day for minutes to hours at a time — might as well say hours since it goes out and comes on at least 30 times per hour for several hours in a row. I called Mr. XXXX in Portage —several times. Guess what? In typical Comcast tradition, he has failed to return my last SEVERAL calls. The bottom line, Rick…you have lost a customer, and I intend to take several with me. Comcast promises are the equivalent of “the check is in the mail, and I will respect you in the morning,” and unless and until (the until is doubtful) Comcast hires competent folks with some semblance of knowledge and telephone techs who speak the King’s English, they will never be anything more than they are right now — overpriced drains on the finances of the working poor who employ sycophantic jerks to blow smoke up the skirts of those whom they actually CAN fool and provide nothing more than migraine headaches to those of us who actually rely on the internet for something more than entertainment.
You keep going on listening tours. I DARE you to visit Chesterton, Indiana. You won’t like what you hear.
On my way to Verizon.
The Always Divine Ms. M/end of ComCRAP rant
Here’s the other rant (and you thought you were getting off easy…so to speak). Since when is “buy one pound of bacon at 4.79 and get one free” a deal? And why give a person 1000-dollar deductible with the full intention of sucking them dry for another 1000 per calendar year as a copay? Am I the only one confused? Doubtful… Insurance is the same bullshit game it always was and I doubt that BO is going to have any impact. It would be much cheaper to croak…
Posted by wenchwit on March 20, 2009
It is FINALLY going to happen. I am going “under the knife” on Monday, March 23, 2009. I am scared sh*tless, truth be told, but I have hope that the surgery will afford me better vision, fewer headaches and some semblance of normalcy as far as appearances. I have a glitch in that I cannot undergo any sort of general anesthesia, so I will be awake while my eyes are being insulted by a scalpel and needles and such. Fun, fun, fun. Like my daddy always said,”If it doesn’t kill you, it will make you stronger…” (Where did I put that last will and testament?) This is one of several things that will happen over the next few weeks/months to get me back on a healthy track, and all of them have been painstakingly and ridiculously slow in coming. I’m having my daughter take before and after pictures for posterity and my memoirs, and I usually balk at having my picture taken. God help me if I ever have to have a mug shot other than the mug shots taken for driver’s license purposes. Some even say that my reflection cannot be captured in either a mirror or on film, given my nocturnal nature.
My physician is a cutie and came highly recommended, but medicine is not now and never has been an exact science, and we are all at the mercy of whatever medical professional who maybe did not get enough sleep, had a fight with his or her partner, drank a little too much, or is simply not at the top of his or her game.
E is getting her permit tomorrow. That’s an iron-clad guarantee of more gray hair for me, but there is always Miss Clairol and I expect to know her up close and personally for the rest of my days…or perhaps I WILL shave my head and sport a variety of “do rags” in outrageously garish patterns.
Life goes on,