Since many people enjoyed my last column about my phone ordeal, I figured I’d update everybody on what has happened since then.
To recap, the helpful people at the Verizon wireless store could not give me a new phone so they gave me a card to call their insurance provider. I called Asurion Insurance seven different times before I was awarded a new phone.
First off, my dad pays for my cell phone. I’m going to let him pay it as long as he wants. But this reality became the fundamental problem in my request to replace my phone.
On my first call, I needed to have my parents’ address in Leesburg, Ga. I don’t know it if off the top of my head. I couldn’t call my dad; I was already on the phone.
Click. A dim light bulb went off over my dense melon with the thought of checking my other phone, remembering I had stored the address. I had the service representative wait for the phone to awake. She was telling me she would cut me off after three minutes. When the device flashed to consciousness, I tried frantically to unlock the screen, rubbing the face of the phone like a magic lamp. I had forgotten the entire reason why I needed a new phone; my screen broke for no reason on Jan. 11. Subsequently, I sprayed out a furious burst of obscenity at my faulty phone and myself for my stupidity.
Over seven calls, it was like a roll of the roulette wheel wondering who might be on the other end of the line. On the next call, with the address in hand, I could not even get to the point to utter it. The representative told me I was not even on the account. If I’m not on the account, how can I be talking to you!?
One other call, the representative told me they did not cover what had happened to my phone. He told me to talk to Verizon wireless customer service. I felt like I was trapped in an iron maiden, or some other spiraling, circular structure that elicits pain.
The other calls went more along the lines of “We see you’re not the primary account holder, we’ll need to get permission from the primary account holder before you can go ahead with the claim.”
A game of phone tag progressed with my dad as he would call Asurion, then I would call them, and then he would call them back. On Thursday, Asurion finally admitted to having my dad’s permission and I received a brand new Palm Pixi in the mail the next day.
When I tried to activate it by calling from the phone, the conversation went like this, “We see you’re not the primary account holder, we’ll need permission before we can activate your phone.”
I almost passed out from the banal déjà vu. I went into work and called my dad. He called the people at Verizon and on my next call I moved a step closer to activation.
This time around, because I had transferred my account to a different type of phone, the data plan originally used for the phone was not available. Once again, the people at Verizon needed to contact my dad. Thankfully, he answered his phone and the matter was cleared up within minutes.
I did get a little bit of luck Sunday night. When I reprogrammed my phone, putting in the e-mail information, all of my contacts returned. It was kind of like putting a cherry on a manure sundae, but it was still nice.