Damn You Wireless Zone!

Cell phone guys must be cut from the same greasy cloth as car salesmen. Yes I know, some of them are no doubt fine citizens doing their best to serve the public, and are really good people. But not any of the ones I’ve met. So I stand by my stereotype.

I digress. A couple of weeks ago I go down to the local Verizon Wireless Zone to upgrade from my POS cell phone to another POS cell phone with a camera in it. I thought it would be nice if I could take pictures to add a little pizzazz to my blog. The ONLY reason I wanted the new phone was to A.) take pictures, and B.) move them from the phone to my computer, for the purpose of enhancing my blog.

Everybody with me so far? There will be a test later.

So the cell phone guy shows me a few phones, I pick the one I like, and then he tells me I’ll need a “media tool” so that my phone can have psychic communion with my computer. This so-called tool is a $50 dongle that is NOTHING but a fancy USB chord. Total cost to make: approximately 12 cents.

Anyway we move to the counter. I give him my cell phone number so he can switch it to the new phone. Uh-oh wait. I failed to mention that I was on a Family Plan. Like with my family and stuff. And guess what? My father is the man with the power.

I’m told I need to come back with a letter from my father saying its okay to muck with the phone, a copy of his driver’s license, and his social security #.

Are you serious? A note from my dad? What am I, twelve? This is silly. But I’m a good sport.

It takes about 3 weeks for said note from dearest father to arrive. It arrives wrapped in my brother. We get into the Batmobile and head for the Verizon store again. Different sales guy, I explain exactly what I am looking to do, show him the phone I want, buy my $0.12/$50 dongle and go home.

I then waste 4hrs trying to make it all work. I should mention that this is after I waste an hour manually transferring my old phone book into the new phone because Verizon wants even MORE money to perform what was always a free-bee at my previous cell provider. Anyway, no dice. I can get everything rolling EXCEPT the multi-media bit, which is EXACTLY what I need to transfer these stupid pictures.

I waste another hour on the phone to Motorola. These folks were great. I kept getting bumped up the food chain until I reached a guy who was a specialist in my particular phone –can you believe they even have people who specialize in particular cell phone models? Me neither.

So this guy drops some serious science on me. There is nothing wrong with my phone or my dongle. That’s right. My dongle is good. It’s a Verizon software thing. Verizon gets pissy when you don’t give them all of your disposable income. So even though I am using a Motorola phone and a Motorola dongle, the Verizon servers will only let me move photos from my camera phone to my computer by paying Verizon to email them to myself –either on a per photo basis or by signing up for some bullshit monthly service. There is NO way around this. The Motorola guy even called me back at home after trying to bypass the software block. He is unsuccessful and agrees with me: Verizon sucks the Big One.

I’m sorry, but did I miss the part where I was magically teleported to Communist China, where some godless overlord makes my consumer choices for me?

I haul ass back to the Verizon WeSuckAss Wireless Zone. This time my child (the Widget) is with me. I explain to her (‘cause she’s six) that Daddy is really, really angry, but not with her. In kindergarten terms I try to explain what extortion and bad business practices are. I conclude with the announcement that Daddy might scream and yell a little, but at no point should she feel that her own life is in danger.

We enter the VWZ.

My salesman is there. Still, (I feel compelled to note), wearing a dress shirt without an undershirt on under it. That should have triggered a red flag 3 days earlier. He asks what’s up. Bad move.

“I’m returning this stuff,” I say.

Puzzles silence, then, “Is it broken?”

“Yes. Well, no.” I am a master of words!

“It probably works fine, but the good people at Motorola have informed me that Verizon has some sort of block thing that wont let me move the pictures from the phone to the computer, unless I buy their stupid service, which I told you I had no interest in and you told me was not needed.”

“Its broken?”

I re-explain using smaller words. The manager steps in, oozing schmarmy confidence. He explains that Verizon has invested millions in developing - -

“It’s a scam,” I interrupt. “And why did you sell me this shit if you knew it wouldn’t work, and you knew I’d be back,” and really pissed off, I didn’t add.

For the next 15 minutes the three of us enjoy an uncomfortable silence while they did the paperwork required to give me my money back.

Meanwhile the Widget is having a blast. Cell phone stores are full of neat stuff to touch, jump on, and sing about. At first I enjoyed the fact that this might be irritating the staff, but my nerves were frayed beyond belief so eventually I had to stop her and explain that Daddy was on the verge of Violent Action and that I was sure we would both regret it if she happened to become the target of said action. 5 minutes later we were out of there.

Don’t you just hate it when something that should be really simple turns into a 3 day marathon of suck? In the end I went to my least favorite place on Earth –Wal*Mart. A place I like to smugly thing of as “Darwin’s Waiting Room” but for socio-economic reasons I am all to often forced to give my patronage to. Though I was glad to buy a rad Slave One Transformer for Toys For Tots. Some kid is gonna get the most awesomest Transformer I ever done laid eyes on.

I got a nice little Kodak Easyshare C433. It’s a fancy point-n-shoot. For an extra $10 I got a 2 gig memory card, and the thing is WAY better than any camera-phone.

But damn do I miss my Quantum Leap theme song ringer.