Happiness is

If there's one lesson I've learned over the past years, it is to NEVER, EVER take no for an answer when dealing with a "customer service representative." In fact, I can tell within 5 seconds of the conversation whether I'm dealing with someone who is truly interested in helping me or is sitting in their cubicle eating Cheetos and reading Craig's list rants and raves.

In my quest to replace my broken broadband connection, I first called our local Verizon dealer and told him my story. He was busy but promised to look up the options and get right back to me. In the meantime, I retrieved my Verizon "You Qualify for a Free Upgrade" propaganda from the garbage and dialed *611 from my cell:

"Ma'am (BTW I absolutely detest being called Ma'am) I'm sorry. You are not eligible for a free upgrade at this time. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

OK. Called dealer again--that's when I found out that a new modem card cost $199.00.

Time to take this to the next level.

Commonly referred to as begging.

Dialed *611 again. Clicked through automated menu. Clearly ennuciated the reason for my call and eventually talked to a real person. IHer name was Bridget. I like the name Bridget. I felt a surge of hope and launched into a detailed explanation of my plight--and even told her that I had called earlier and been turned down. I also might have even stooped so low as to tell her my 92-year old mother who lives with me had tripped over the cord and knocked my laptop to the floor causing said damage. (Which is, as God is my witness, exactly what happened--but whether or not I should have been so insensitive as to have used the incident to further my case is at best debatable, at worst, reprehensible.)

"Ms Patten, when I hover my cursor over your broadband account, it indicates that you are eligible for an early upgrade prior to your June 30 renewal."

I've heard a lot of responses when people are looking at their  computers while talking to you--and it cracks me up when they provide a running whispered commentary of just what's happening or not happening on their monitors.

But I've never heard anyone talk about hovering their cursor.

I asked Bridget if there was some way I could call her back--and she let me down gently saying, "Ms Patten I will make a note of our conversation on your account and any representative will assist you if your dealer is not able to help you."

Bye Bridget. You will forever remain in my heart.

Another call to the dealer.

And another call to Sam who is on his way there.

And another call from Sam to me--with the voice of a guy in the background saying "Tell her everything worked out just the way she wanted it."

So here I am. The weather outside is frightful, but my computer and I are delightful. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow..