Comcast Is Why I Drink

I'll call them right after I get done making this noose for myself.

I never intended to make this a blog about me bitching about various companies, but I guess when you make a blog about bitching, naturally you’re going to include such things as McDonald’s, or the BMV.

Today, I’d like to introduce you to a fun little company called “Comcast.” Interestingly enough, Comcast is an anagram for “Scam Cost.” Just thought I’d let you know.

I’m moving later this week. My preference would be to keep the AT&T U-Verse that I currently have (and love,) but that’s not in the cards, apparently. They don’t have lines run to my neighborhood. I get that. What I don’t get is why every house surrounding my neighborhood can get U-Verse. Seriously, Sookie moved into the neighborhood down the road from mine, and she has U-Verse. Who’s a girl gotta fuck to get some U-Verse? I’m not saying I’d do it, but I have friends with questionable morals who probably owe me a favor.

After I kindly told AT&T to eat my ass, I started to do my research. There appeared to be only two options: DirecTV and Comcast.

I should be honest up front…I hate Comcast. Always have. They have, by far, the shittiest customer service I have ever encountered. I used them as my internet provider a few years ago and got into some drama with them. What will always amaze me is how complicated they make shit. The way I see it, I have money. I want to give you money in exchange for the internet. Then I don’t want to hear from you ever again. WHY IS THAT SO HARD? Because it’s Comcast, that’s why.

So I signed up for DirecTV, which isn’t ideal, but whatever. They were going to give me free HD boxes as opposed to making me pay for each one in addition to giving them money for service. I like free. Free I can handle.

The DirecTV website is confusing. In the end, I failed to determine whether or not they could provide internet, so I gave up. I knew AT&T could run DSL to my house, but I was still pissed at them and knew that they probably have a poster hanging in their call center that says, “This girl is a histrionic bitch.”

So I did it. I signed up for Comcast internet. They were supposed to come on a Saturday between 10 am and noon. Since I’m trying to pack up my soon-to-be old house, I sent my father over to wait for the installer. This wasn’t a huge issue, because there was still some painting to be done, and he likely would have been there regardless. But still. He waited.

At 11:55 am, I received a phone call on my cell phone. Because I am inconsiderate and a douche bag, evidently, I didn’t answer my phone right away. Yes, I heard it ring (three times at best) but I was selfishly using the restroom, and figured they’d appreciate that I’d spared them the discomfort of hearing me tinkle.

I called back immediately. It rang a couple times and went to voicemail. I waited two minutes and called again – same thing.

I shrugged it off and figured that if they really wanted to talk to me, they’d call.

Blissful in my ignorance, I finished up packing and headed over to the new house. I called my dad around 1:30 and learned Sir Comcast-a-lot had failed to appear.

The phone call experience I had after that can be best described as a clusterfuck of prodigious proportions.

I called 1-800-COMCAST. The robot spent five minutes explaining to me that I’d get quicker service if I let them call me back in 1-2 minutes. Um, okay, whatever. I spent another 5 minutes arranging the callback. I hung up and within a nanosecond, received my call back.

Me: “Hello?”

Robot: “This is your scheduled call back. Please hold for a customer service representative!.”

Me: “Uh….”

Five minutes later, I finally got a legit human on the phone. She started off friendly enough, but our conversation really took a nosedive when she informed me that because I had been taking a piss when the tech called, he had decided that I was either not at home or I was dead, so he decided not to come.

Fucking, pardon?

I’ll spare you all the details, but add Comcast to the list of places I’ve told to “eat my ass.”

I canceled my service (which had never even started) right there on the spot. Now here’s how you know a company gets shit on all the time: the girl just said, “okay, done.”

There was no fight. No offer to make it up to me. Just “okay.”

There was also no sense of defeat in this woman’s voice. It was as if I had said, “I’m going to go breathe oxygen today.”

“Okay.”

I really fucking hate Comcast. They’re a shitty company to begin with, providing spotty-at-best service, but then they go to the seventh circle of hell and recruit technicians/customer service reps. They shouldn’t call themselves customer service representatives, because that carries the implication that they’re actually going to aid you.

Instead, let’s rename them “Day-Ruiners.” Perhaps, then, we would all be less likely to douse ourselves in gasoline and light a match every time we have to talk to them. Maybe not.

My advice to you is to avoid Comcast like the plague. It’s the McDonald’s of the cable world.

I don’t have any scientific evidence to back this up, but I’d be willing to bet that Comcast has been the cause of a number of tragedies, including but not limited to: paper cuts, cancer, the disappearance of Amelia Earhart, and the invention of the Croc.

Comcast is run by Satan’s less efficient brother, Chet.

I really hate Comcast.

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