Just Say No

I lifted weights yesterday for the first time in ages. Little did I know that the real workout would come later, when I called Verizon to arrange the transfer of my existing phone and internet service to my new address. The service consultant (scratch that, saleswoman) tried to triple, then double, my monthly bill, often in a sneaky, underhanded way. But I was strong, and I resisted, in a feat that would make Liz Pulliam Weston proud.

First, she tried to sell me an HDTV package. Fair enough. I said no. She argued that it would be worth it, because it would waive the service transfer fee, which she said was $95. But even though I went to public school in fake America, I figured out that it was still not worth it (my monthly bill would increase by almost as much as the fee).

Then she tried to sell me enhanced telephone service. I told her that I only had a landline so I could have DSL. Nonetheless, she continued to go through every package available, one at a time. She reiterated that going with a package would allow her to waive the transfer fee. I kept saying no. Only then-- this is good--she said, "oops, turns out the transfer fee is only $42."

Then she tried to sell me DSL that was three times faster. I said no. I almost added that if I develop an internet porn habit I'll consider it.

Finally, we agreed that she would just transfer my existing service. Which is all I asked.

Don't think it stopped there. She said, "you'll get a few e-mails about services you'll be enrolled in, but you can cancel out. It includes line protection, a gaming service..." and so on. One or the other was free for a month and then I could cancel. I told her to just cancel them now.

I wish the rest of you, and the rest of the country, as much strength and determination as I managed to exhibit yesterday.

***
Mom: Why didn't you answer the phone when I called?
A.: If I didn't answer the phone, it's because I couldn't answer the phone.
Mom: Well, why couldn't you?
A.: I was on the phone with various utilities, to arrange for service in the new house.
Mom: What kind of service?
A.: Gas, power, water, phone...
Mom: Oh. [Yells at dad about something being on or off. I don't know.]