This doesn't really have much of anything to do with technology except for the striking parallel it provides. I've complained in lots of articles about the dismal state of technology generally, as well as the customer service/support provided by specific vendors. I had such a bad experience today with the bank from whom my WorldPerks VISA card is issued, however, that it seemed too "good" to avoid listing in these pages.
All I wanted to do was make use of their on-line banking features. The credit card company touted this as a brand new thing in a recent mailer, and it looked like I would be able to keep tabs on credit-card purchases on-line. This would be handy for various reasons, so I clicked the link embedded in the email message and tried to sign up. There was only one problem: I didn't have a PIN number for my VISA card. If I ever received one, I surely don't know what it was. Their cheerful web site told me this wasn't a problem, however, as I could easily call the handy toll-free number and get one.
Right. I called the number, waded through no less than five layers of menus, none of which seemed all that closely related to what I needed to do, and then got disconnected from their phone system. With their menu system, you see, if you select the wrong option, there is no way to go back to the previous menu. As such, you're limited to exploring and getting screwed if you pick the wrong thing. This wouldn't be such a problem if the options weren't so vague and nebulous in their content.
At any rate, I called back, and I tried a different route through the menu system jungle. That got me to a person, who told me she couldn't find my account information. She said she would transfer me to the correct department. Naturally, the person in that department couldn't find my account information either, so he apologized and said he would transfer me directly to the correct department. The third person to enter this particular scene in my futile little drama couldn't find my account information either, but she promised to remain on the line until somebody from the right department could be reached. I have to give her credit for not trying to pass the buck. She finally got us through to the right person, and I, naturally, was dropped from the conversation at that point when she botched the handoff. It's a pity I can't also give her credit for knowing how to work a phone.
Being the idiot that I am, I called back yet again, my temper flaring nicely. I waded through three of the four requisite menu layers and got disconnected for no apparent reason. You can imagine how "helpful" that was to my state of mind. What should have been a simple process had now become an Arthurian quest; i.e., I was going to get my PIN number or die trying—and the latter would have been preferable. I haven't yet mentioned it yet, but in each of these I'll-transfer-you-to-the-correct-department interludes I've been sitting on hold between 4 - 8 minutes listening to the most God-awfully cheerful muzak. I now understand how people like Jeffry Dahmer happen.
I called back again, and I managed to hit the voice-menu lottery and speak with a person. He assured me that though he couldn't access my account information, he would connect me to the right department. He actually seemed somewhat credible too insofar as he gave me a direct number to call should I be disconnected again. Naturally, he was wrong. The person who answered, after another lovely stretch on hold, could not access my account information. She did promise, however, to get stay on the line until she could connect me with the right department. Ah yes. Déjà vu all over again.
Imagine my surprise when she actually did connect me to the right department. How about that! Somebody at my bank can actually access my account information! What a radical notion! It's funny, but the jerks seem to have no trouble billing me every month. The problem only arises when I need customer service. I guess their priorities are crystal clear, eh?
Still, the solution was less than optimal. The PIN number I need cannot simply be given to me, you see, despite them asking for confirmation of my name, address, card number, the number on the back of the card, my social security number, my birth date, and the ID number stamped on my Captain Midnight secret decoder ring. Nope, I might not be me. Instead, they're going to mail it out to me. Ah yes, sending it through the mail where God knows how many dozen disgruntled postal employees might have a chance to filch my number seems far more secure, doesn't it? (sigh)
At any rate, what should have taken a mere couple of minutes took over an hour of time on the telephone, and I'll be lucky if the PIN number arrives at all given the general reliability of the U.S. Postal Service. Maybe in a few days I can complete the on-line banking form and access my account, but I'm not holding my breath. I'm half expecting that the web site won't be able to find my account information either. Of course, it could always just disconnect me. Obviously, banking sucks too.
12/02/2002