i am actually nauseous with anger right now. its been a while since i actually yelled at someone on the telephone. and while it feels somewhat cathartic, i am still no further to getting resolution to my problem (like i only have one).
here is what i am dealing with…
back in january after a stretch of three weeks with a visit to the nissan shop to get an oil change and replace not one, but two stereos on a car that was only two years old i was losing patience. especially since each of those visits lasted about two to three times longer than they said it would take. and then i went home for xmas and drove pop’s MINI. i loved it.
so when i got back in january, i started to investigate the trading in of my sexterra in on MINI cooper S. in a time crunch i agreed to take a small bath on the trade in value of my sexterra. i signed the papers and turned over the keys to the sexterra with my new MINI cruising me home. the week before doing that, i made a payment on my sexterra to the wonderful people at nissan motor company acceptance, the financing people at nissan.
but that payment did not register before my buyout. so i was expecting a refund check from nissan. i waited the advised 21 days before inquiring about my refund.
this is where the fun begins.
as the growing number of you know, anytime you dial an 800 number associated with a large company these days, you are going to get someone with an oddly heavy indian accent. outsourced. the semi-entertaining thing is that they tell you their name is something like Mike or Brad or John. right. maybe Semi. not Brad. i am really to believe that there is a congregation of indian people that have all been given anglo-saxon names because they were going to be born into a call center family? this adds a certain degree of difficulty for me when i am trying to come up with insults or not so eloquent phrases to express my rage.
i think the first four times i called, i got the check is in the mail rendition of their script. on several occasions i corrected them on my address.
and to add kindling to the fire that consumes me upon one of these wonderful phone calls, they keep you on hold forever. today is april 9th. i sold my sexterra to the people at MINI on january 11th. you do the math and try to realize my level of sanity at this point.
so when i talked to “Brad” (the call center manager, because “Mike” wasn’t getting it done.) just now, i lost my cool. i asked him what fucking world he lived in where it would take three weeks to send a check from dallas, texas to charlotte, north carolina. and if he actually knew where either of those states were. and then i let him know that i could have gotten in my new MINI and drove to dallas to get my check by now. seven times. and when he informed me that it would take a week to confirm where the check was, put a stop payment on it, and send me a new one (a song that i have heard before) i informed him that if i didn’t have a check in my mailbox by friday that i was going to call my lawyer. i told “Brad” (i refuse to write his name without quotations) that i would spend $5k dollars in legal fees to get my $350 from him.
you remember when a you thought it funny to deal with an accent on a customer service call because the sweet lady who WANTED to help you was in minnesota? and she called you sweetheart after telling you she would make sure things were fixed? and is it odd that a japanese owned company outsourced a call center job to india? they also outsourced my sanity. i long for the days of betty jean from chanhassen, minnesota. come back betty jean! or at least call “Brad” and tell him to send me my fucking check!