Making sure I get my own veritable spot in Heaven. Rant ensues.

[ofstarstuff.livejournal.com]

Yesterday I got a 52-minute call from a $DSL customer. Typical 'my internet is slow!' ado. I absolutely hate those calls.

15 minutes, at least, were used to try and enter the Online Administration area of his service. Why? Picture username/password page. There is a field under each of those words, where you type your info. He was clicking to the right of the words. Where, you know, it's BLANK.

And please, please. It can't be that hard to type a '@'. Is it?

52 minutes. In the most horrible, inscrutable, backwash accent. The one that makes you go 'could you repeat that, please?' every two sentences. And I've been suffering from a swollen lymph node on my ribs, which, adding to my wracking cough and the terrible pain the node inflicts when I breathe/cough/sneeze, makes my patience go down drastically.

Props to the gentleman, though... At the end of the call, he praised my patience, and said that not every tech is as kind to him. I think he should praise the mute button and my ability to wring his neck in my mind.

Bruised purgatory. Fifty. Two. Minutes. Something that we could've done in 15, tops.