Why Cell Phone Companies SUCK

Reason For Sucking #1:
Today I had to get up relatively early because Cait was coming this morning for a visit. On its own, this would be cool, but the reason for said visit was because (in addition to her need to bask in the glory that is me) she needed to return her new AT&T cell phone. Although said device was a drastic improvement from her old "The-Buttons-Don't-Even-Have-Numbers-Anymore Phone," it's ability to function had abruptly ended when she left Wheaton College last week for her house in Maine. Obviously, this was a problem. However, when she called AT&T to get it exchanged, they informed her that she couldn't bring it back to an AT&T branch in Maine, that she had to return it to the ORIGINAL STORE she bought it at, which was in Massachusetts - specifically at the Emerald Square Mall.

Oh, no problem, it's only a quick 4-HOUR-DRIVE.

For a major corporation who's sole function is COMMUNICATION, it's pretty sad that they can't even relay messages between their own corporate branches. You can return a library book to any library in the United States, but you have to go BACK to the cell phone store. Note to self: don't upgrade cell phone while on vacation in say, Hawaii. Luckily, she has me who lives relatively nearby to mooch off of.

I mean visit.

Anyways, after Cait fought through accident-tied traffic in Boston, her Volvo finally pulled into the driveway around noon, and we set off for Emerald Square Mall to begin Phase II of the Cell Phone Exchange Process. Now, I live closer to Emerald Square than MAINE, but it's still a good hour and a half away from my house. By the time we got there it was almost 2:30, and Cait was understandably a little sick of sitting in a car.

Strange Men Incident #1:
As we took a moment to let her stretch her legs, a car full of twenty-something-looking Marines pulled up alongside of us (I could tell they were Marines because their dress uniforms were hanging in dry cleaning bags in the back seat), and four pimply-faced, mouths-full-of-Mall-Pretzels, uniformed horndogs peered out, spewing, "Heyyyy Ladies, what are you up to? Doin' some shoppinnnn'?"

Cait started power walking away, but I leaned down and said with my best smile, "Yes." The pimply one moved his arm up the steering wheel revealing an equally nasty multi-colored flaming tattoo which took up the entire length and width of he forearm. Yuck. He leered. "Whatcha doin after that?" I shrugged. "Nothing much." One of the ones in the back seat peered at me from behind his newly dry-cleaned uniform. "Wanna go out?" he drooled.

I wondered briefly if they were shipping out or had just gotten back. Either way, I don't think they much cared at this point. I smiled as widely as I could and leaned on the window. "No thanks," I purred. "I'm taken," and I waved my bluish aquamarine ring that widely gets mistaken for an engagement ring by stupid people. They peeled off pretty quickly after that and I started laughing, as Cait stared at me from halfway across the lot.

Reason For Sucking #2:
In any case, after doing some shopping at the mall, we decided it was time to see someone about the real issue at hand: the cell phone. So, we found the place where she bought it, which turns out wasn't even really a STORE, per se, but one of those booth-like-things that clog the middle of mall walkways. The point being, I had a feeling that this would be a PROCESS, and booth-like-things don't come with a place to sit down. With a sinking feeling, we approached the lone man manning this contraption, and Cait explained what was wrong and what she wanted to do. The man looked at her with the dazed expression of someone who has no clue what you're talking about but lets you keep talking at him while he thinks about other things.

This was going to take longer than I thought.

The man got on the phone to some AT&T representative, and, twenty minutes later, was still listening to someone on the other end, nodding in certain places. He must have been psychic or something, because I didn't hear him say much of anything, and despite the age-old idea that videophones would be the wave of the future, it was still impossible for the other caller to see that this guy was nodding. If we tried to ask him a question, he either ignored it or looked at us strangely, like delegates from a vocal planet visiting a world of mutes.

Again, one would think that a giant corporation whose sole purpose is communication would hire EMPLOYEES who exemplified COMMUNICATION SKILLS. After standing there for about 40 minutes of this non-responsive phone conversation, I had had about enough. I told Cait I was going to look in one of the stores across the way and walked off. I mean really, this isn't my problem. However, going astray led to:

Strange Men Incident #2:
I wandered into one of the art stores and was looking at post cards when I saw some guy in a kilt browsing the shelves in the back. I thought it was slightly strange that someone was in the full dress outfit at the MALL, but I didn't really think too much of it; I mean, between the Greens next door, the Mattesons, and Matt, it's not like I've never seen anyone in one before. So I went back to my meandering until the guy was suddenly right in front of me, got in my face and said, "Sorry, family photos."

Getting a better look, he seemed to be in his late 30s, maybe early 40s, complete with thick glasses, a messy comb-over, and oversized, overbitten incisors that gave him a vampireric appearance. He was slightly hunched over in a timid, yet creepy, manner. I guessed he was apologizing for his unusual dress, so I just smiled and said, "Don't worry about it. I know a lot of people who wear them." Assuming that I had thoroughly assured him that I wouldn't gawk, I turned back to skimming the bookshelf for interesting titles.

Kilt Man, however, had other ideas.

Taking my response as an invitation to chat, he began to go on about where he had gotten the outfit, how much each part had cost, and describing various pieces of it like the green-stoned and diamond encrusted buckle and some fancy pins and a whole bunch of other things that most of my friends didn't include on theirs (with good reason - they were so tacky). Parts of the monologue were interesting, but by the time he was done he had taken half of his clothes off and the way he had backed me all they into a glass case was making me slightly uncomfortable.

Then he started changing his story, saying this was actually only the second time he'd worn it, then saying it was the first time, and then that he wasn't actually Scottish at all, but one of his friends was and had "gotten him into it." Then suddenly it was a wedding he was in that he was wearing it for, not family pictures, then something else, then about how he WAS Scottish, oh, but wait he wasn't, and WHY WAS HE STANDING SO FUCKING CLOSE?

Escape came in the form of the Oldest Trick In The Book, only it wasn't a trick. "Your shoe's untied," I warned.

It was. Really.

He bent down to tie it, talking to himself about shoe-tying the entire way, and I made a quick exit stage right. The cell phone booth was looking better and better by the second.

Reason For Sucking #3:
After extracting myself from Kilt Man, I returned to the AT&T booth to find Mr. Unresponsive STILL on the phone and Cait looking rightfully irritated. I told Cait my story which passed some of the time, and we both watched from behind the booth as Kilt Man bumbled out of the store and disappeared down the walkway. He was looking around with such an air of confusion I wondered if he would ever find whatever it was he thought he was going to.

Mr. Unresponsive took this moment to finally hang up the phone, and Cait turned to him expectantly for an update. He just turned his back to us, however, and started shuffling through some papers. After almost 10 minutes, Cait finally asked, "So - what's going on?" Mr. Unresponsive looked at her strangely for a minute, then said, "They're busy. They're going to call back."

FOR CRYING OUT LOUD-

"When?" I asked. He shrugged. Great.

I think AT&T should be shot.
In the gut.

We stood around for almost twenty minutes before they called back, and Mr. Unresponsive gave the phone to Cait, and she went through the entire story AGAIN. Apparently the first hour was just to get the fucking PHONE CALL. FINALLY, they said they could give her her money and her old phone back, but it was going to take some time to process. OF COURSE. Cait said we were going for a walk and we'd come back when it was done.

Strange Men Incident #4:
We took a walk around the mall for about a half-hour. It was almost 5 by now, so we decided it was safe to head back. On the way, we got accosted by some foreign man inhabiting another booth-like-thing, who grabbed our hands and refused to let go until he had thoroughly examined our fingernails. After saying that mine were beautiful, he started dragging me bodily over to the booth, telling me the entire way about how he was going to "change my life." I wondered vaguely if he planned on changing it by dislocating my shoulder from my socket. It took me a few minutes to extract myself from his grasp. Eventually I managed to shake his arm off while saying "No, THANK YOU!" very loudly, and powerwalked off with only a few minor scratches. Whew.

Finally we made it safely to the cell phone booth, and by some act of God Mr. Unresponsive had straightened everything out and Cait had both her money and her old crappy phone back. Time to go, right?

Wrong.

Reason For Sucking #4:
Cait still didn't want her old crappy phone. We had to go UPSTAIRS to ANOTHER AT&T STORE to get her a NEW PHONE. Why she still wanted AT&T I have no clue. So we went to the store. At least this was an ACTUAL STORE, not a booth-like thing, but it still didn't have anywhere to sit. Cute. Envisioning another long, drawn-out process, I quickly high-tailed it out of there to go to Charlotte Russe in search of a new skanky - I mean SOPHISTICATED - top. I took my time and remained delightfully unmolested, and found myself in an infinitely better mood as I headed back over to the cell phone store.

As I approached, I saw Cait was waiting for me anxiously, and had accomplished nothing in my absence, because her indecisive mind needed someone else to choose a phone style FOR her. AKA me. For the love of God. I just pointed randomly and said, "That one," which of course was followed by an array of questions from Cait, because no purchase of anything (no matter how expensive, cheap, or perishable) can be made without a CIA-worthy interrogation. She then thought about buying a few accessories, like a car charger, but at almost 40 bucks a pop, I told her to forget it. 40 BUCKS? Fuck that. AT&T is DUMB.

Cool Men Incident #1:
We were having a tough day. Adults suck. You know who turned things around? TEENAGERS. We went DOWNSTAIRS to ANOTHER booth-like thing run by two nice-looking teenage guys. Not only did we get Cait's accessories for 15 BUCKS, but they refused to sell us something that wouldn't work correctly, and were really nice and chatty without sexually advancing on us in any way. So we finally left the Mall happy and accomplished.

Who says teenagers give us no hope for the future? They were the coolest people we met all day.

And no, they didn't work for AT&T.