The Big Bean and I have been customers of yours for like ten years and that’s mostly because we’re lazy but for the purposes of this conversation let’s call it “customer loyalty.” Over that time we’ve been through lots of phones and talked to you a lot on those phones for help with those phones and for the most part you’ve been pretty helpful, at least, you haven’t completely FUCKED US like some other people (cough*AT&T*cough) have. For example, YOU’VE never forced me to talk to 28 (not an exaggeration) DIFFERENT ASSHOLES (one of whom HUNG UP ON ME OH YES HE DID) to get an issue resolved that YOU created, right before Thanksgiving, when you’re supposed to be nice to people and give them presents and candy and customer credits and stuff instead of making them cry and scream and beg.
I might be getting my holidays mixed up but you get my point.
What I’m trying to say is that over the years I’ve developed high expectations of you, Sprint. And by “high expectations” I mean “I expect you to not fuck me.”
But then my new phone, the phone that I love and want to marry and make babies with because it’s so amazing and solves all the problems of the world with a simple touch of the screen – you know, kind of like Jesus, but better – THAT PHONE DIED this weekend. JUST LIKE JESUS. Well, not EXACTLY like Jesus, but still. They’re both dead, aren’t they? They might as well be related.
So I went to your store with my dead Jesus phone and high expectations but you just scoffed at me, Sprint — and by “scoffed” I mean “made me wait while you helped other customers.” Which is LAME. Jesus thinks so, too. He says you’re going to hell unless you get some more stuff in your store to keep people entertained while they wait, like a few magazines and maybe some Sudoku or Jenga or something. Jesus LOVES Jenga.
Also, if you have a big screen HD-TV in your store it’s just WRONG to show nothing but your stupid marketing video with the fat guy. You can’t expect people to NOT die of boredom when all you give them to stay entertained for 45 MINUTES is a bunch of Sprint phones that don’t even work half the time (like the WORST MARKETING STRATEGY EVER, by the way) and a fat guy in HD hawking whatever crap you’ve got out this week to try and compete with Apple (which, whatever it is — FAIL).
So basically it’s like you’re murdering people. With boredom.
And don’t think Jesus and I didn’t notice that you spent WAY more time with the cute girl in the short skirt (which, really? It’s 30 DEGREES OUTSIDE, idiot) than you did with the weird smelling guy who was there before her. We noticed, Sprint. It’s why I flashed my boobs at you. Because you’re skeevy and that was obviously the only way to get your attention. And also because Jesus told me to.
And then when I finally HAD your attention you just scoffed at me again, and this time by “scoffed” I mean “stared at my boobs while I explained that my phone was dead like Jesus and needed resurrecting.” SO disrespectful. To both me AND Jesus.
And THEN you told me you had to order a new phone and it would take at least 24 hours for the new one to arrive and during that time I WOULD HAVE NO PHONE, and when I started the ugly cry and threatened to punch you in the nads you just covered your groin with your clipboard and asked me to put my boobs away. No hug or anything. It’s like you didn’t even CARE that you were hurting Jesus.
And now it’s been 24 hours and I tried to wait patiently, I really did, Sprint – but I think I might have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Just like someone who’s lost a limb, you know how sometimes they can still feel it like it’s there? Well I keep having these phantom vibrations but when I reach for my phone it’s not in my back pocket and then I remember that it’s dead like Jesus. I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is. Otherwise, I have no idea how to explain all these ass vibrations. So obviously I HAVE to call you every fifteen minutes to see if my new phone is there yet. I don’t have any choice, it’s part of my illness. Stop being such a DICK about it, okay? Show some compassion, for Christ’s sake.
What I’m trying to say is, it’s been well over 24 hours now and I still don’t have my phone and JESUS IS PISSED AT YOU, SPRINT. This is fair warning. Get me my phone back so I can start mating with it. The sooner I start making half-breed human-phone babies, the sooner I can sell them on the black market and put Apple out of business because hey, Steve Jobs may be the shit but even HE can’t top half-breed human-phone babies, and then WE ALL WIN, Sprint. You and me and Jesus.
Otherwise, you’re gonna BURN, dude. I’m just sayin’.
UPDATE: It should be noted that my new phone DID finally arrive, and Sprint Store Dude wasn’t skeevy at all when I went to pick it up. In fact, he was kind of awesome. That didn’t stop me from publishing this post, though, because I’m a bitch writing a new post would’ve involved work, and I think we all know how I feel about that I felt it was important to document the experience, which of course was all true except for the parts about Jesus, Jenga, my boobs, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and murdering Steve Jobs. And some other bullshit that I totally made up but can’t remember right now.
Anyway, because I obsessively sometimes stalk keep an eye on my blog stats, I saw today that someone FROM SPRINT had read this post, and in a sick pathetic desperate attempt to drive more people to this blog, which some people would call incredibly funny and insightful and by “some people” I mean “me and absolutely no one else”, I tweeted this:
I know, right?! It’s CONFOUNDING that more people don’t read this blog, with how hilariously funny I am! But the thing is, someone from Sprint actually saw that tweet, and they tweeted this back to me:
And I’m all, Are you KIDDING ME right now? Sprint seriously wants to HELP me? What happened to the shitty customer service I totally made up spent an entire day writing a blog post to bitch about document? They’re jacking with the whole superior-to-the-multi-billion-dollar-corporate-conglomerate vibe I had going! SHUT UP SPRINT DAMMIT YOU ARE HARSHING MY GIG. IX-NAY ON THE USTOMERSERVICE-CAY. KAPEESH?
And they were all
FUCKING TOUCHÉ, SPRINT. Humor points. They even included the little semicolon smile to show me that they mean business.
And that’s when they stopped but I’m pretty sure it’s just because now they’re busy exploring new ways to credit my account with hundreds of dollars because I’m so hilarious murder Steve Jobs provide excellent customer service. And whatever they decide to do, I’M IN, SPRINT. I’M TOTALLY IN.
And so are my boobs.
And so is Jesus.
The End and Amen.Stumble it!