But this is not an instance of complete exaggeration. This is a true, documented event. There will be some slight embellishments, which will be noted throughout. Be afraid...be very afraid.
I plugged a phone into the second phone line in the house. I picked up the phone to dial and was treated to ear-shattering static (embellishment). I then began my ordeal.
I called 800-427-9977, which is the customer service number I was eventually able to extract from the Verizon website. I had to navigate through 10 steps on the site to get that number (embellishment).
I called the number, and was greeted by a lovely, warm female voice. This automaton inquired as to the purpose of my call. Once we came to our joint conclusion as to who I needed to speak with, "she" transferred my call. The line rang once, and then disconnected. I called back, and surprisingly, was greeted by the same female voice. We went through the same process, and again, 1 ring and disconnect. This went on until the fifth try when I actually got connected to a female voice belonging to an actual human being. Said human being told me I had reached the wrong place, and that I needed to call 800 275 2355.(not an embellishment)
Commence dialing 800 275 2355. To my utter shock and surprise, I was greeted by the very same female robot! Our reunion did not go well. We went through the foreplay and she sent me on my way to the repair center. I was treated to a repeat of the 1-ring-disconnect process 5 times. Each time I called back, I played footsie with the robot. At one point, when she asked me what I was calling about, I asked for a salami sandwich. She couldn't understand that (not an embellishment).
Upon reaching the next level of human contact, after 20 minutes, I was told by the human lady that I had to go outside the house (in the rain, not an embellishment) and plug a regular phone into the "interface" attached to the side of the house. Believe it or not, I actually had a "regular" phone in the house! I went outside onto the squishy lawn and found the interface. I had the foresight to bring my Phillips-head screwdriver with me (memories of prior experiences, mind you). Happily, I found that the screw in the interface was a flat-head screw. While I was readily available to find a regular phone in the house, a regular screwdriver was another matter.
I found one eventually, in the draw with the kitchen utensils (such a better place to keep one than a toolbox). I made it out to the "interface", talking to myself at this point, and opened it. I plugged the "regular" phone into the line and got the same ear-shattering static from a few hours ago (embellishment).
So now back to my automaton. I went through the dial-foreplay-1-ring-disconnect process. 9 times. NINE TIMES. Imagine what a stud I was feeling like, NINE TIMES in an afternoon. On the seventh try, the automaton told me her first name, and by the ninth we made a dinner date for Saturday (embellishment).
Now the steam is blasting out of my ears (not an embellishment) and oh man, I am ready! I am going to give someone a miniscule piece of my fragile mind. And just at the moment, the sweetest, most Grandmotherly voice answered the phone that didn't disconnect this time! I was totally disarmed and deflated, and I humbly and quietly told her everything I had done, and that I still needed repairs. I do not, however, need a date for Saturday night (embellishment)
Verizon told me that I am scheduled for repairs tomorrow, between 1 PM and the year 2015 (embellishment). I hope they fix it so that I can use my other line to stalk the automaton (not sure about this yet...)
The Grandma asked me something about Verizon FiOs, but I think not. Cablevision is my provider at the moment, and I only have to make 3 attempts to buy my Pay Per Views before I get to watch one. I don't think you can beat that.
Oh and Blogger STILL thinks I'm a spam-bot. Maybe that's why Verizon's automaton was so mean to me.