Why I Hate Buying Things: A Rant

The internet is a wonderful thing. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would disagree with me when I say that the internet has dramatically changed the world for the better, but odds are they don’t cruise blogs, so I think I’m safe. Not only does the net let us stay connected to people we are geographically separated from, it entertains us, provides us with news, and teaches us to do everything from build a birdhouse to start a military coup if that sort of thing is what you’re into (I’m looking at you Egypt).

But, all those things aside, my absolute favourite thing about the internet is that it limits the number of times I have to personally interact with customer service representatives.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love some of the benefits that person-to-person interactions provide. You can ask questions, make jokes, sometimes you even have a pleasant conversation or make a new friend. Unfortunately, these diamonds are most assuredly in the rough. Nowadays you are extremely lucky if you find a customer service representative who is EITHER knowledgeable about the relevant topic OR pleasant to talk to. The odds of stumbling into an interaction with someone who is both of these things is the rarest and most startling of surprises.

It has actually gotten to the point where I am caught off guard by a positive experience. Case in point: On Saturday I went to the hardware store hoping to find something to remove paint from the floors in the house I recently moved into. I was greeted by an enthusiastic, middle-aged employee with a little bit of an Alan Thick thing going on. Not only was he cracking jokes, laughing, and generally taking some pleasure in this job, he showed me a better and cheaper solution to the problem I was hoping to solve.

I haven’t stopped talking about it since. This blog is a perfect example. I am now actively looking for excuses to go spend money at that hardware store just because the experience was so unique.

My original point still stands, however. The internet has made it so, in a lot of cases, we can avoid the the guy at the cell phone store who hates his job and lets it show or the teenager who is selling shoes in spite of not knowing how to tie them.

Recently I signed up with a new internet provider and (aside from a scheduling conflict that was my fault anyway) I didn’t need to actually speak to anyone to get things set up. I filled out a form online, a guy showed up and ran a line, I got online, and I was billed. It was an amazingly smooth and convenient process. Considering the hassle that often goes along with setting up services, I was very happy.

Riding on the high of that success, I decided to push my luck. The last step in setting up my new place was getting the gas turned on. Oddly enough when I signed my lease and spoke to a representative from the company who manages the property, no one mentioned that I would need to call the gas company. Needless to say I was frustrated but a little heartened by the fact that the gas company provided me with the option of signing up online. You probably know where this is going…

It has been a week since I got my “Confirmation” email. I use quotation marks because clearly my understanding of the word ‘confirmation’ differs from the gas company’s. I am still taking cold showers despite trying to call them three times to set up the service that I thought I was setting up online.

Finally today my girlfriend got through to them only to find out that they had no record of the request. They even went so far as to suggest that I should have called to begin with. To me that begs a question: Why would you allow people to register for your service online if you don’t plan on actually recording their information?

The experience has been nothing short of infuriating and has brought me to a realization:

As wondrously convenient as the internet is, we may never be able to fully escape the frustration of dealing with incompetent people; because, sadly, they are now the ones administrating the websites we rely on.

It may just be that instead of going to a store and talking to a person with the IQ of a bag of sand, we have to fill out an online form that request personal information, sends SPAM to our email accounts and conveniently trashes whatever it was we were requesting in the first place… Or maybe I’m just venting.