My phone died last Friday when I was in Buffalo visiting my father (who’s improving, but still miles from recovery). One minute I can communicate anywhere, and the next I'm mute.
The next morning I hike out to Verizon Buffalo. The phone is under a year old so I expect if it can’t be fixed, I’ll get a replacement. I’m calm as Anne, a tech rep with the clear skin, sleek bob and black geek glasses of every 20-something Verizon spokesperson, tells me she can’t find a pulse.
Okay, I say, set me up with a new one.
Let me find you a salesperson, Anne says. That’s not necessary, I smile, another Blackberry is fine. That’s when Anne informs me my phone isn’t under warranty. Of course it is, I say, I bought it last March.
Anne tells me it that doesn’t make a difference: the day I bought the phone I changed billing responsibility from my then soon-to-be-former spouse to myself and this action, performed during the same transaction, invalidated the warranty.
You’re kidding, I respond. You mean if I’d changed the name on the account BEFORE I gave a credit card number, the warranty would be in place, but since it happened in the opposite direction, my warranty is voided? It’s Verizon policy, she insists. Pretty deceptive policy, I reply. Anne doesn’t twitch a facial muscle as she directs me to the showroom.
Maybe this is a blessing, I think: a Droid or an iPhone would be nice. According to the tag, a Droid is $129 with a two-year contract. That's reasonable, I tell the salesguy. Except that’s not the what it costs. What it costs is $600 unless I buy a two-year plan. No problem, I say; I’ll add two years to my existing plan. No, he says, you need to buy a new two-year plan. You mean I have to pay off the remaining 13 months on my not-working phone AND buy an additional two-year contract for this phone? That’s right, he says, also without a hint of sympathy.
But wait. I remember I bought insurance on the phone; in fact this is the reason I didn’t get an iPhone from the get-go—they don’t offer insurance. I relay this information to Anne and she says I should feel free to make a claim. I’m making a claim now, I say. No, she tells me, the insurance is through a third party called Asurion. But feel free to use any of the phones in the showroom to make the claim. And by the way, expect an $89 deductible.
I phone Asurion and the generated voice tells me to make a claim online. I open my laptop (a Verizon rep gives me a password after I balk at his suggestion that I use Starbuck’s signal) and start the process. Did I drop the phone? No. Did liquid spill on the phone? No. Is the phone cracked or broken? No.
In that case, a screen says, call us.
I call and talk to a live person. I explain the situation. So the phone wasn’t dropped, wet or broken? No. It just stopped working. Oh, the rep says, than we can’t cover a replacement. She explains that I wouldn’t expect my auto insurer to cover the costs of a new auto if my old auto just stopped working, would I? I’d only expect them to cover costs incurred in an accident.
I bought a new Blackberry that for reasons still unclear has to be mailed to my home. I plan to make one hell of a fuss when I take it to Verizon to get it activated, but I’m sure that fuss will be wasted on the clear skinned 20-something who waits on me. At this point I’m just hoping he’ll be able to transfer my contacts, which Anne says is not likely considering the phone’s power defect.
You didn’t back your contacts to your computer? she asked. I couldn’t figure out how to do it and when I asked Verizon for help, they told me to contact Blackberry. Blackberry didn't offer live person assistance and Blackberry online was so confusing I gave up.
Ah, she said as she turned back to her cohort of attractive technicians.
Verizon hears me loud and clear. But it's not about hearing, it's about helping, and that's where their signal falls short.
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