On a bizarre, frustrating phone call; absentees at the Republican convention; the brilliance of Bob Newhart; and more
In the 2021–22 season, Saturday Night Live ran a sketch about canceling cable. About how hard it is. About how maddening it is. Very funny, this sketch. Watch it here.
I got a story for you . . .
On Saturday, I wanted to cancel my cable-TV service (while keeping my Wi-Fi service). I went to my provider’s website. I could not find where or how to cancel. So I asked Google: How do you cancel with these guys? The answer came: They won’t let you do it online. You have to call.
Tell-tale.
I called. This was at about 4 p.m. I had to leave home at like 4:30. I had a half-hour — plenty of time, I thought.
My call was put through to a young man. Nice fellow. I told him what I wanted to do. He said, “Why? Why do you want to cancel cable?” I said I was not watching much TV, at all. I was patient with him. I knew he was doing his job.
He asked how many people lived in my home. He asked some other questions, bordering on the intimate.
Still, I was patient. I knew the drill, to a certain extent.
He put me on hold. When he came back, he offered me a deal on my cable TV. “Thank you,” I said. “But I want to cancel my cable. I want to cancel it altogether. It’s not a matter of paying less. I’m an odd duck, who seldom watches TV. I get all I need on YouTube and whatnot.”
Again, he put me on hold. When he came back, he offered me another deal. I continued to be patient. “I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I said. “But I want to cancel my cable. Would you please do it? We’ve been on the phone for about 18 minutes now, and I have to go soon.”
He put me on hold. He came back to me with a third offer. I said, with incredulity in my voice, “Young man, you’re not going to cancel my cable, are you?” He said, “I’m just trying to give you options!” I said, “But, as I’ve made clear, I don’t want options. I want to cancel my cable.” He said, angrily, “You mean, you don’t want to watch television?”
Think of it. He said this angrily. To me, a customer.
When you don’t order the special, the waitress doesn’t speak to you angrily, does she? Especially when you’ve been sweet?
I said, “We are now at about 25 minutes. I have to go in about five. Will you cancel my cable?” In a sour and injured tone, the young man said yes. I said, “May I be excused now? Can I go?” No, he said. I had to remain on the phone. If I hung up, my cable would not be canceled.
Juggling the phone, I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and changed my clothes. At last, my guy came back on and said it was done.
Which I assume it is?
According to my phone, the call took 29 minutes and 14 seconds.
What a frustrating and bizarre experience this was. There must be a better way. There must be more customer-friendliness in our vast market. If I weren’t so lazy, I’d find another Wi-Fi provider.
My experience was not as funny as Saturday Night Live’s sketch. But I could see where the sketch came from.
I think of the counter at a rental-car agency. No matter what, they try to get you to upgrade to a larger vehicle and buy more insurance. I am usually patient with the counter person.
Once, however, I said something like this, when arriving at the counter: “I hate to be rude, but I’m in kind of a rush and it’s been a trying day. Could I just say now that I don’t want to upgrade and don’t want to buy more insurance? Can we skip all that and just get to the bottom line? Thanks so much.”
The young woman behind the counter was very nice but, strangely, she could not comply with my wish. It was almost physical. She had to go through the rigmarole — like she had no agency (no pun intended). Like she had not even heard me.
Is there a company that prides itself on an absence of rigmarole? That even advertises itself that way? I bet the market would welcome it . . .
• Hakeem Jeffries is a Democratic congressman from New York. He is the minority leader. I saw a press release that said, “Leader Hakeem Jeffries privately met with President Joe Biden a week ago.” I also see press releases about “Leader McConnell.” Mitch McConnell (R., Ky.) is the minority leader in the Senate.
This “Leader” business is relatively new, I think — ten or fifteen years old. Personally, I like “Speaker,” “Majority Leader,” “Minority Leader,” “Chairman,” and that’s pretty much it. “Leader” is a little creepy, to me. It has a whiff of the North Korean about it.
When I expressed this view on Twitter, a fellow wrote, “Didn’t Bob Dole name his dog ‘Leader’? Or am I mistaken? (I’m rapidly approaching my 60th birthday, so I very well could be.)”
The man is not mistaken. In November 1984, Dole was elected majority leader in the Senate. His wife Elizabeth gave him a dog, “Leader.” I was an intern for Bob Dole that semester. (It was an exciting one, politically, with the majority-leader contest and the Reagan vs. Mondale presidential campaign.) I was never asked to walk Leader. I think other interns may have been.
(Forgive my Memory Lane — especially about something so terrible — but Indira Gandhi was assassinated during those months, too.)
• The headline reads, “Largest housing provider for migrant children engaged in pervasive sexual abuse, U.S. says.” (For the article, from the Associated Press, go here.) I cannot imagine anything more predictable. Call me cynical, call me realistic — but are there ever organizations that help children whose employees aren’t child molesters? I mean, I have heard about this, read about this, my entire life.
Haven’t you?
• Another AP report: “Shannen Doherty finalized divorce hours before death.” I never watched this woman in her hit show, or shows. But I have read about her for years and years. And her life always seemed to be terribly hard.
What a story, the one I have linked to.
• Anthea Sylbert was a costume designer and movie producer. She was very close to Goldie Hawn. Sylbert died last month at 84. I would like to quote the final paragraphs of the obituary in the New York Times, by Richard Sandomir:
Her second husband, the actor Richard Romanus, . . . died in December. The couple moved to Skiathos in 2002.
Ms. Hawn and her partner, Kurt Russell, regularly visited Ms. Sylbert and Mr. Romanus in Skiathos, most recently in Ms. Sylbert’s final days. Ms. Hawn said that she and Ms. Sylbert sprayed their favorite perfume over each other and drank cognac.
“I laid beside her,” she said. “Pet her head, kissed her face. She passed away in between kisses.”
• Bob Newhart has died, at 94. There are a hundred things to say about him. Let me pick one: Have you seen this sketch? Newhart at his best, I think.
• A speaker at last week’s Republican convention prompted a discussion of Botox. I mean, his appearance prompted it. Only a week or two before, I had learned an interesting phrase. Maybe it’s old, but it was new to me: “Brotox.”
(Botox, originally, was a ladies’ thing, as I recall.)
• Ordinarily speaking, the political conventions are kind of like Old Home Week. You see the former presidents, the former nominees. I always enjoyed this, about conventions (and most everything else, about conventions — even the goofy hats). But the Republican conventions are different now. You would never see George W. Bush or Dick Cheney or Mitt Romney. You don’t even see Mike Pence, who was vice president in the previous Trump administration.
Amazing to think about.
• Overheard in a diner: “My brother was an amazing salesman. He could sell someone two left shoes, and make him think that his foot was the problem.”
As with “Brotox,” maybe that’s an old line — but it was new to me. I wish you a good week, my friends. Later.
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