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The New Worst Company I've Ever Dealt With: Dish Network
October 13, 2009 5:00 PM
n all of my various exploits with stupid people working for stupid bureaucracies, I had not, until recently, encountered a company that fails to provide even mildly competent customer service as completely as Dish Network does.
It all started with the move. I was told that I had two options for TV: Charter and Dish Network. That choice seemed easy: I fucking hated Charter, so I decided to go with Dish Network. I called up Dish Network and explained to them that I had tapped them to provide me with mindless entertainment. I gave them my name, phone number, address, credit card number, and whatever else they asked for. They asked me which package I wanted. I told them. They told me that if I sign up for auto-pay, I could get Cinemax for $.01 for a whole year. I said, "No, thanks." They scheduled a day to come and install my dish: sometime between 8:00am and noon, they'd be here.
To my surprise, they showed up right around 8am. Great, I thought. Except that, and this is my fault, I didn't have a TV yet. So that was a no-go. I apologized to the guy and told him that I'd call up Dish Network and get a day rescheduled.
So I did. And I made sure that I was here that day. I brought work home. The guy was supposed to be here between 1 and 5pm or something. By about 4:45, no one had showed up. I checked my phone and saw a missed call and a message. I checked the message, and it was some guy telling me that he had come to set up my TV, but that he couldn't do anything because my apartment complex has an exclusive contract with some company called CTI, and only their technicians are allowed to come onto the property and work. I called the guy back to ask exactly who he worked for and why no one had realized that this was the case, but he didn't answer.
So I called up Dish Network and explained the situation. They fell all over themselves trying to explain to me how sorry they were and how much they understood, and they said that they were trying to call that technician to figure out why he'd decided that he couldn't do the installation. That was a no-go, so they called up his company, and they couldn't come up with a good reason, either. So they decided that they could install it, and the person I was speaking to apologized again and told me that they'd bump me up on the installation schedule to make it up to me. Sunday between 8:00am and noon, someone would be here to install my dish.
Or not. All I got was a phone call saying that they couldn't possibly install my dish because of some contract between my apartment complex and some other retailer. This made my mind warp.
Just to recap: I called up Dish Network. I asked them to install their shit. They said they could. Then someone who works for them said they couldn't. Then they said they could and would. Then they said, "oh, wait, no, we can't." I explained to whoever was on the phone that I'd been waiting for my TV for weeks and that it was unfathomable to me that they had absolutely no idea which retailers were authorized to work on which properties. Seriously, how is that not information these people have access to? I mean, aren't people paid to compile databases searchable by, I don't know, zip codes or street names or something?
"You say you live on Main Street in 12212? Oh, let me look that up. Yup, it's Home Satellite that you've got to deal with." That's not inconceivable, right? It's possible to do that! We have that technology.
Apparently Dish Network doesn't. I was livid, but surprisingly respectful: it wasn't, after all, this specific person's fault. So I explained why I was frustrated and asked to know exactly what the hell was going on. She said that maybe they could install it (mind explodes more), but that maybe not. All the while, she's telling me that she's keeping detailed notes in my file about what's happening and what they've done.
Then they told that this whole thing was going to have to wait until Monday because no one at my apartment building was there on Sunday. That makes sense, although it sucks. So I waited until Monday, and I called them again and we're sitting there on the phone and they tell me that they're in contact with my apartment-complex management. It's unclear whether they've sent someone to speak to them in person or whether they've just called, but they assure me that they've talked to someone from my complex, that they've figured out that the right company is CTI, and that they've spoken to CTI and they can get my shit installed right away. The woman also assures me that all of this is reflected in the detailed notes that she's keeping in my file. Thank god.
I got a call from someone in my apartment complex's office following up and letting me know that they'd heard that I was having problems with Dish Network. Okey doke.
So I call CTI and go through the application process again. I give them my name, phone number, address, credit card number, and whatever the hell else they ask for. They ask me which package I want. I tell them. They tell me that if I sign up for auto-pay, I can get Cinemax for $.01 for a whole year. I say "No, thanks." They say they'll come install my shit at 4pm the very next afternoon, Tuesday. Today.
I come home from work, my mind awash with memories of what TV is like. My face is a silly grin all day because I keep thinking about how, soon, I'll be able to enjoy mindless, passive entertainment again. The day-to-day drudgery of my life and existence are dulled somewhat by the thought that, before too long, I'll be basking in TV's warm, glowing warming glow.
Or not. Because at around 4:15, I get a phone call. It's the CTI technician, and he's got an attitude. He tells me that this isn't CTI's building, and that he can't do any of the work. I get angry and tell him that Dish Network told me that they were the people I had to talk to. Then he screams at me, curses at me, and hangs up, but not before he mentions that he's outside. I run outside in a blind rage, ready to tear this guy limb from limb while wearing my flannel pajamas and Cookie Monster Woot shirt. I can't find him. That's probably a really good thing.
I come back inside and weigh my options: who do I scream at first. I take stock of the situation and realize what the real problem here is: I don't have TV. So I call up Star Satellite, who the CTI guy told me is the right company (after Dish Network told me that they'd spoken to my complex and CTI was definitely the right company). I calmly explain the situation to the Star people, and they take my application. I give them my name, phone number, address, credit card number, and whatever the fuck else they ask for. They ask me which package I want. I tell them. They tell me that if I sign up for auto-pay, I can get Cinemax for $.01 for a whole year. I say "Yeah, no, thanks." The guy says "I'm sorry, did you want Cinemax and auto-pay or not? That response could mean either." I realize that my response could have been reasonably interpreted to mean either, and I say "I'm sorry, I meant that I do not want it." They set up an installation time, but they tell me that I should make sure that all my other orders are canceled or else everything will be fucked. That's fine, I think, I'm calling up CTI and Dish Network, anyway.
I call up CTI first. I do my best to stay calm while explaining that, hey, your fucking employee fucking cursed at me. I don't demand that he be fired on the spot, knowing that won't accomplish anything. I ask the guy on the phone how it's possible that they could not have any idea what buildings they service. He gives me some non-answers, and I get bored, so I thank him and hang up.
Then I call Dish Network. I dodge all of their auto-answer obstacles so that they have no choice but to send me to a live person at their "Welcome Center." The woman I speak to says that she'd like to welcome me to the Dish Network family. I tell her that I'd like to talk to someone about my potentially canceled account and that I don't want to waste my time speaking to a non-supervisor. She puts me on hold and I wait.
I talk to some guy and explain my situation. He tells me that he's able to pull up my account. I ask him to review all of the detailed notes that are in my file. He seems puzzled, and tells me that there are only two notes. The first mentions that they reviewed some legal stuff with me, and the second one says something like "Cinemax offer made, client agreed to sign up for auto-pay."
I throw the phone across the room.
Three fucking times I've told these people that I will not do their auto-pay dance, even for free Cinemax. Three fucking times! And they, in turn, have told me numerous times that they're keeping detailed, meticulous notes about my fucking account. I was lead to believe my file was more voluminous than a fucking Dostoyevsky novel. But no! Instead, there are two one-sentence notes, one of which says the exact opposite of what I've been telling them for weeks. My mind explodes from rage.
I ask the guy to check my account information, and he tells me that, based on what he's seeing, I signed up in 2007, disconnected in June of this year, and am now asking to be reconnected. "How is that possible," I ask, "given that I just moved in to this apartment last month and I've never had Dish Network before?" He seems baffled. I suggest that perhaps what happened is that someone took the account for whoever was here before and changed all the information except the history so that it pertained to me. "That's possible," the guy said, "but that would violate all of our business practices." So then what the fuck? The guy has no answers. He actually says that, he says that he can't answer any of my questions. So I ask if there's anyone that can, and he says "Let me have you talk to my supervisor." What? Really? What about earlier when I said that I wanted to go straight to a supervisor. No dice, apparently.
So I talk to a guy. He's nice. I specifically tell him that I am livid, but that I know it's not his fault and that I'm trying to be patient with him. He says he understands. He puts me on hold for a while, then comes back and tells me that everything is all rainbows and lollipops. He says he's canceled the auto-pay thing. He apologizes. He tells me someone will be here Thursday.
If I'm not splayed out on my couch watching reruns of Baywatch by this time Thursday, I'm using the nuclear option: I'm crawling back to Charter.


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