If only our borders were as secure as accessing a cell phone account.
We noticed a huge mistake on our cell phone bill this week and called customer service to get to the bottom of it.
“Pin number, please?” the barely intelligible voice on the other end said.
We gave it to him. Nope. Wrong number. Sorry!
“The street you grew up on?” was the next question.
We told him that, too.
You mean, somehow my Better Half FORGOT the street she grew up on?? She even tried the SECOND street she grew up on, in case by some fluke she had given that one instead.
NOPE, NOPE, NOPE!! Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!!
The blood was more than boiling at this point. You see, the agent wouldn’t explain the error on our bill until we could prove we were who we said we were. We were willing to give Social Security numbers, our address, etc. But NO! How could we get any further if we didn’t know the street on which we grew up! We were CLEARLY impostors!!
Cutting to the chase–the dolt on the phone didn’t enter “Street” after our answer. HUH?? Are you KIDDING ME?? Are you telling me that is doesn’t show him the magic answer to the secret question unless he INPUTS it? I don’t believe it for a second!
He actually read us BACK the correct answer. And it matched OURS. So obviously he had the street name in front of him the whole time. Unless he typed “Lane”, “Avenue”, etc. which it does not appear he had the mental capabilities of doing anyway.
Oh, and by the way, our password WAS correct. He was just reading the number wrong.
I took the phone at this point and demanded to speak to a higher power. I complained to the supervisor, who wasn’t any better at communicating in the English language than her agent was. I told her that the guy helping us was a dolt and I couldn’t understand how they could allow such people (let alone PAY THEM) to waste a customer’s day like that. We spent easily one hour of our day on something that should have taken 10 minutes TOPS.
All I got was the standard, cue card answer…”We’re so sorry…blah, blah, blah, blah.”
Same old junk.
Maybe they should hire that guy to man security at the big city airports! He wouldn’t let anyone in!!
“We need a password to get into America? HUH??”
“What do you MEAN I don’t know my mother’s maiden name??”
Once Michael Chertoff puts Sherlock on the payroll, maybe my cell phone provider can replace him with someone who speaks English and has half a brain. Just half. That’s all I’m asking for here. I know not to set my sights too high.
You have to be realistic, after all.