sǝuoſ ǝuıɥsunS | notebook, journal, inter-web log

I knew that her cell phone was gone. Don’t ask me how, I just had one of those feelings where you just know. the look on my wife’s face, that distracted, brow furrowed, I’ll be right back sort of look, was all it took. So while she went looking all over the store for it, scanning the parking lot, double checking her pockets, looking carefully on the ground and in between racks of toys, I dialed the number. The first time I got her voice mail. But in my mind’s eye, I saw the harmless, and actually quite dreadful Siemens clam shell cell phone actually resting in a pocket, sneaky fingers clutching it, excited to open the device and begin calling everyone. I could see it clear as day.

I dialed the number several more times. Eventually a dull, lifeless voice answered the phone, “Hello?” It was more of a statement than a question. I listened carefully to the background noise. Cell phones are far less discrete than ordinary telephones, people with you can always hear what the person is saying to you, and you can usually hear fairly well what the person on the other end of the call’s companions are saying as well.

I heard nothing.

“Did you just find this telephone?” I asked calmly.

“No.” Said the voice defiantly. “This is my phone. Fuck you.”

“What number have I dialed?” I asked, looking at the readout, confirming I hadn’t misdialed.

“The number of my telephone.” The voice began to sound like it was smiling at me, taunting me. Perhaps hoping I might give them the number.

“How would you like to make fifty bucks?” I asked directly.

“Fuck you! This is my phone…” The voice shouted. I held the phone away from my head and then hung up.

I called 611. If you use T-mobile you can dial that to get “direct service” from the provider. Only it’s not direct service. You first get to speak to “Nicole” the virtual attendant who is always very cheerful, and often tires to help with things you really don’t want help with.

“Operator!” I say firmly.

“Ok.” Says Nicole “I’ll transfer your call, but first…”

“Operator!” I shout into the phone. A man standing in the isle with his three children looks at me and smiles with his tired and understanding eyes. I nod at him and we exchange a moment of maleness.

The call is connected to Dennis. He’s a real person and immediately thanks me for choosing T-Mobile. I speak quickly and efficiently. “Dennis, we have a serious situation here. My wife’s cell phone has just been stolen. I spoke to the thief on the phone and they refused my offer of fifty dollars to return it, and I want to cut it off immediately please.”

Dennis seems to lean closer to his headset and assures me that he has handled this type of situation before, in fact it’s happened to him personally. He tells me not to worry about anything and adds “I’ll fix you right up, sir.”

“Good man.”

I give the required details, and the phone’s serial number is deactivated. It takes about three minutes. Done. I lean against the rack of toys extending above my head and scan the room for my son. He is dutifully standing beside me, looking up at me, worried. I kneel down and assure him that everything is going to be ok.

“But what about mommy’s phone?” He asks.

“It’s gone love, we’ll have to buy her a new one.”

“But what about her other one?”

“We’ll have to pick out a brand new phone for mommy. Would you like to do that?”

He nods his sweet head and smiles at me as if picking out a new phone would be the very best thing in the world.

Dennis and I talk about improvements I could make to my rate plan, how I can add minutes for the same price. We talk about which phone I should get to replace the one that was stolen. “Did you like the Siemens telephone?” He asks hopefully.

the Seimens CF62 was a ghastly phone. A handsome silver and blue, clamshell style phone with no ringers in it which sounded remotely like a telephone. All jingle, no ring. The GUI reminded me more of a computer learning interface for monkey’s than a device for human beings. And worst of all, it didn’t even have a camera (something my wife insisted she didn’t need or want when I got her the phone.) Dennis chuckles along with me. He doesn’t like the Siemens telephones either, and while we’re chuckling together he lets me know, between the two of us, that he’s can “put my wife into a Motorola Razor for only $59.99.” Naturally, I’m impressed. That’s a hot phone. Dennis agrees with me, but I know what I want.

My friend Corey has this Nokia phone with lights on it. The camera is pretty good, and the reception is excellent, so i describe the phone to Dennis and he knows just the one. It’s only $34.95 including the accessories package. I ask him a few times what exactly is in the “accessories package” but he seems to dodge the question like an expert salesman.

“Is it cheaper if I don’t get the accessories package?” I ask finally. A woman with a package bigger than her upper torso pushes past me and almost trips over my son. “Watch out sweetheart!” I ruffle my son’s hair and pull him close to me.

“Excuse me?” Says Dennis.

“Not you.”

“Hello?”

Hello?”

“Yes sir.”

“Is it cheaper if I don’t get the accessories package?”

“Yes, hello sir, it sounded like you were doing something there with someone else for a minute.”

“I was.”

“Do you need a moment sir?”

“No, it’s cool.”

“Ok, so, it’s going to be $34.95 and that will appear on your next bill. It will take 3-5 business days…”

“Dennis?” I ask softly into the invisible mouth piece of my Nokia 6600.

“Yes?” He asks.

“Is this any cheaper if I don’t get the accessories package?”

I hear typing for a moment, and the sound of other people saying things like “I’ll put you on hold for just a moment,” and “Yes Mr. Walters, I understand what you feel you have been put through…” when Dennis returns and says “No. It looks like the accessories are included sir.”

“Ok, thank you for checking.”

Dennis and I bring the computer into our conversation. It seems we both have to listen to the extended agreement requirement and then I have to press one to agree, or two to disagree. I press one, and it looks like we’re all done.

“Sir, there’s one other thing…”

“What’s that?”

“If you could make it to a T-Mobile store before 9 p.m. tonight, we could transfer this order to them and you could have your telephone tonight and save the shipping charges.”

“Dennis?”

“Yes sir?”

“May I please speak to your supervisor?”

Dennis gets quiet, excuses himself, and soon a falsely positive sounding young person comes to the phone and introduces himself as “Raylee.” Who in the fuck names their child after a grocery store? That’s like naming your beautiful little baby “Win Dixie” or “Vons.” Raylee is under the impression that there’s been some difficulty and he’s here to assist me in any way he can. Raylee also thanks me for choosing T-Mobile.

“Raylee?” I ask calmly.

“Yes sir?”

“I only wanted to let you know that Dennis has been arguably the most inspirational and delightful telephone experience I’ve had in more than ten years.”

Raylee sputters a little.

“My wife had her telephone stolen tonight. I spoke to the thieves and they were not interested in a reward in exchange for the phone. They used profanity and were terribly rude. Your employee Dennis was wonderful and immediately assured me that all would be well, and assisted me in choosing a better rate plan, selecting a better telephone, and has even directed me to how I could have that phone tonight without any further waiting. I wanted to tell you that Dennis is my hero, and you have an outstanding young man on your staff sir.”

Silence.

“Sir, I’m delighted that you are satisfied with the service we have provided you with tonight. I would like to personally thank you for using T-Mobile and ask if there is anything else I can do for you tonight sir.”

“Yes there is.”

“What’s that sir?”

“You can assure me that Dennis will be recognized for going above and beyond the call of his ordinary telephone service.”

“I assure you sir,” Says Raylee in the same tone of voice. “That Dennis will be recognized at our weekly team T-Rally, and he will receive group recognition for his work.”

For a moment I visualize the mindless hell that must be the weekly T-mobile level A telephone support T-Rally, where the overweight, and the drunken, the dead eyed, and the ex-con alike shuffle into a conference room which smells of non dairy creamer and carpet to get jazzed about who’s done well on the team this week. My heart goes out to them all with two packets of sweet-n-low.

“Excellent”

“Will there be anything else I can do for you tonight sir?”

“No thank you Raylee, I’d say you’ve all been wonderful and done more than enough for my family tonight.”

“Thank you for choosing T-mobile.”