Monday, February 18, 2008

On Comcast, and Why I Want to Kick It In the Head

I'm a Comcast customer, and I'm pissed.

I was trying to set up my online account at their website, which they don't tell you actually requires two master's level degrees and a SuperComputer to figure out, along with the PATIENCE OF GOD. Clearly I was SoL from the outset.

They've recently implemented some sort of Extra Security Precautions involving PIN numbers and security questions and blood tests, and I'm not sure why my cable service needs to be more secure than our nation, but okay. Although if someone hacks into my account and downgrades me to whatever package doesn't come with MTV I'll probably have to rethink my position.

So I don't know my PIN. The thing is, I have log-ons to approximately 35,000 websites. Each one requires slightly different elements in the user names, passwords, and PINs. DOES THAT ANNOY ANYONE ELSE? For some, your username is your email, for others it's a 20-25 letter word that "Only You Will Know." Passwords must or must not contain numbers, symbols, or the lyrics to your favorite NKOTB song.

The Comcast Service Representative couldn't give me my PIN over the phone or email: THAT'S JUST HOW SERIOUSLY THEY TAKE YOUR TELEVISION VIEWING SECURITY. After rummaging through several stacks of paper, I finally found the golden ticket which contained my randomly generated PIN. Sometimes being Type A is very, very useful. Mostly not, but sometimes.

So I entered it as directed, along with scads of other personal information, and waited. And waited. For being an Internet Service Provider, Comcast's site is hella slow. Finally, I was informed that the phone number I had entered didn't match the number on file with my account. I tried my cell phone number. No dice. I tried the DNB's cell phone number. Nope.

At this point, I was shouting "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" at the screen and wishing horrible, horrible things on the Comcast Corporation. I called back, once again waited for my call to be answered in the order in which it was received, and explained the situation.

"Huh, that's strange," said the Customer Service Representative. "I don't know what to tell you."

"How about you tell me what phone number is on my account so I can enter it?" I suggested.

"Oh, okay. Good idea," he replied.

And then he gave me the number. Which was so not my phone number it was amazing. It was like a dyslexic agnostic insomniac employee had entered it as d-o-g.

Which made it all the more glib and ridiculous when the following message confirmed my online payment and account registration: "Well, that was easy, now wasn't it?"


Anonymous said...

You are perfectly hilarious and I happened upon this blog just now...I'm loving it. You're great!

S said...

Welcome, Connie, and thank you for your kind words. Hope you'll stick around - it's only downhill from here. :)