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Forgiveness

What's Your Breaking Point? I Found Mine While Waiting on Hold

Being on customer hold for three hours will do it.

I’ve always wondered what my breaking point would be. When I would hit the wall: that moment where I would lose it.

I found it.

It all fell apart when I had spent nearly three hours on hold trying to get a replacement backup battery for my office AT&T U-verse system. Before I go off on a rant, let me also say that AT&T has the worst on-hold music ditty ever. I mean ever.

One could argue that it wasn’t just AT&T that brought me down, that perhaps it was the culmination of enduring four years of political unrest and chaos that played out 24/7, coupled with a worldwide pandemic for which we were totally unprepared. That maybe wearing a mask, socially isolating, working from home, ordering groceries online, spending holidays alone, not going anywhere with anyone, or doing anything, not to mention mourning the loss of family and friends could be enough to take me over the edge.

But, like so many in the same situation, I have managed to push through all that and keep going.

Until this morning.

You never know when someone is going to get on your last nerve. Nor can you predict what is going to light your fuse, mess with your head, make you explode.

It often involves some intense feeling of frustration, a creeping realization that you are now involved in a situation that you cannot, despite your intelligence, diligence, or good intentions, maneuver with any sense of grace.

When I discovered that my backup battery for my internet/security system was dead, my first and most logical move was to call AT&T, the company that sold me my backup system.

Because of an “unusual high volume of calls,” I was first on hold with AT&T for nearly an hour. When I eventually got through, the technician told me that I needed to speak with Belkin (the battery backup system AT&T originally sold me) regarding a replacement.

I foolishly felt I was getting somewhere and was about to close in on a solution. When I finally got through to Belkin, they informed me that they had cut ties with AT&T six years ago and no longer made the Belkin backup battery, that what I needed to do was go back to AT&T and request a modem upgrade.

Easy peasy.

I spent another hour on hold with AT&T. The service technician I was at last able to talk with informed me that the router I have has a battery backup in it and all I needed to do was unplug the Belkin system. Wisely, I asked him to stay on the line while I did as he instructed.

When I unplugged the Belkin battery, I lost the internet, along with my security system.

Oops.

That’s when the technician asked me to look at the bottom of my router and find the “door” to the battery for the system. I removed the door and, low and behold, there was no battery there.

So, I asked if they would please send me a battery. It was clear the system required something other than a typical AA battery.

Answer: no. They no longer provide batteries for their systems.

Then, I did what Belkin asked me to do, I asked for an upgrade.

Answer: no. My modem was working just fine…and for my information, the new modem would come without a backup battery, as well.

What kind of battery did I need?

He didn’t know what kind of battery.

Then, he put me on hold. At this point, I had been on hold for a total of three hours.

When he came back, he said no one knew.

That’s when I asked to speak to a supervisor.

So, the right thing to do now is to apologize to “Joe,” the supervisor. That’s the name he gave me. No last name. Just Joe. And, no, he couldn’t give me his direct line number. And, no, they didn’t have a way to give me a battery and, no, he didn’t know what kind of battery would work.

That’s when I lost it. I didn’t use any bad words, I just read him the opening of this post. You see, I’d been on hold long enough by then that I had had time to think about what might be happening to other people trying to get a backup battery for their AT&T modem or some other piece of failed equipment.

I had time to start writing.

I’d like to think I lost it for all of you. For everyone on hold everywhere.

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