I was eating at an amazing Japanese restaurant recently. Sansei Hawaii. So we're eating our edamame or whatever and these hot girls walk in. Now when I say hot, I don't mean in a wholesome way. Or even Sports Illustrated Swimsuit way. Or even Maxim. They were at least strippers. Very collagen-y.
So these ladies strut in followed by these- I don't think douchebag is quite strong enough, Dill weeds. Huge Gold watches, Chest hair, Italian loafers. Cells phones-a-blazin'.
They sit down.
"I can't believe how much we drank today. And we all look fabulous. I swear I'm not an alcoholic."
After awhile the dudes go out for a smoke. I took this opportunity to use the facilities too. The dudes took awhile. While they were gone, the girls called the dudes out on the patio.
"Where are you? We totally thought you'd left, or something. Anyway, we're gonna order some sushi."
Now I realize this isn't the most exciting dialogue. It isn’t. Not by a long shot. It’s the dynamic of this group. Why are two gorgeous/sleazy girls breaking bread with two dudes like this? Money? Action? They’re paid accompany guys? Who knows.
It was a total mismatch. I will take a stab at the profession of the guys.
Drug Dealers
Pornographers
Aston Martin salesmen
Persian Rug importers
Owners of a strip club
Owners of a night club
Jewelers
Miami Realtors
Situations like this fascinate me.
Showing posts with label true story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label true story. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Monday, November 19, 2007
Customer Disservice: a rant
THIS IS A RANT, if you're looking for positivity, go somewhere else.
What the hell happened to customer service? Let me paint you a picture.
Back in football season of 2006, my homeboys and I decided to splurge and get fancy expanded basic cable at our residence. We called up the local cable tyrant, Comcast, and asked the fascist phone service people to schedule a technician to install the whirligig that gives you all the good sports channels.
Being somewhat cheap and indifferent to the crap that's on cable after football season, we downgraded our package to the basic local stations, Discovery Channel, and about 38 Spanish channels. As a normal customer, I thought I was good to go. Little did I know, the battle was just beginning.
We continued to receive dreary Comcast service. It wasn't until about 5 months later that I really got a taste for what I was dealing with. I received a bill for 100 bucks for our basic cable and internet for the (1) month. To say I was concerned would be a tad of an understatement. I got on the horn with the fascists to verbalize my displeasure.
As I explained my query to the troll on the other end of the line, it informed me that they would send a Comcast van stooge out to verify our current cable package. No benefit of the doubt. The customer is not right when you're dealing with a monopoly. I was the one that was suddenly on trial. And I was also moving out of state. This would be very interesting.
About three weeks later, I received a call from Comcast. I had to completely retell the whole story to the customer service troll because the previous three failed to take notes on my unique situation. to make a Long story long, I ended up with a 120 dollar credit coming my way. Or so I thought.
Fast forward to this morning. I get a call from a phone number in New Mexico. It's a collection agency asking me what my preferred method of payment would be on an incorrect prorated charge on a cable package I didn't order. Comcast had some splainin' to do.
Another long distance phone call, retelling of the tale to a new customer troll, 17 minutes of shitty hold music, and Comcast seems to have it right. They claimed they'd call off the credit agency, and mail me my check for 120 bucks. In four to six weeks.
Wasn't that easy? No, that was Comcastic.
Comcast can choke on a 12-inch ________ (insert your favorite derogatory, four-letter noun).
What the hell happened to customer service? Let me paint you a picture.
Back in football season of 2006, my homeboys and I decided to splurge and get fancy expanded basic cable at our residence. We called up the local cable tyrant, Comcast, and asked the fascist phone service people to schedule a technician to install the whirligig that gives you all the good sports channels.
Being somewhat cheap and indifferent to the crap that's on cable after football season, we downgraded our package to the basic local stations, Discovery Channel, and about 38 Spanish channels. As a normal customer, I thought I was good to go. Little did I know, the battle was just beginning.
We continued to receive dreary Comcast service. It wasn't until about 5 months later that I really got a taste for what I was dealing with. I received a bill for 100 bucks for our basic cable and internet for the (1) month. To say I was concerned would be a tad of an understatement. I got on the horn with the fascists to verbalize my displeasure.
As I explained my query to the troll on the other end of the line, it informed me that they would send a Comcast van stooge out to verify our current cable package. No benefit of the doubt. The customer is not right when you're dealing with a monopoly. I was the one that was suddenly on trial. And I was also moving out of state. This would be very interesting.
About three weeks later, I received a call from Comcast. I had to completely retell the whole story to the customer service troll because the previous three failed to take notes on my unique situation. to make a Long story long, I ended up with a 120 dollar credit coming my way. Or so I thought.
Fast forward to this morning. I get a call from a phone number in New Mexico. It's a collection agency asking me what my preferred method of payment would be on an incorrect prorated charge on a cable package I didn't order. Comcast had some splainin' to do.
Another long distance phone call, retelling of the tale to a new customer troll, 17 minutes of shitty hold music, and Comcast seems to have it right. They claimed they'd call off the credit agency, and mail me my check for 120 bucks. In four to six weeks.
Wasn't that easy? No, that was Comcastic.
Comcast can choke on a 12-inch ________ (insert your favorite derogatory, four-letter noun).
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