I just checked, and FedEx reported that the monitor had been delivered [and I now have the guy’s signature in pdf form], so I figure now would be the time to call up and find out what the hell I’m supposed to do with that reference number.<\/p>\n
Except…no.
\n
\nSee, as it turns out, there’s no website for that. And I should’ve guessed, really, since all of Acer’s websites seem to go from URL to URL in this shoddy, horrible sort of way.<\/p>\n
And I really, really shouldn’t have called today, when my head hurts, because obviously the stars have aligned in such a way as to force me to actually talk to a person named Shaniqua. Or whatever the hell the name was…it sounded like Shaniqua, it really did.<\/p>\n
Maybe it was Shanaquina, or something equally stupid. Whatever it was, the instant I heard it, I knew I was in for some badness….<\/p>\n
This isn’t a racist thing, either. If some white mother named her kid that, I’d know that the kid was likely to be stupid, too. Because it’s genetic, and no ammount of good genes from the father is going to make up for the supermassive black hole that is the ‘Shaniqua’ gene.<\/p>\n
I start by saying, “I sent in a monitor to have it repaired, because it broke after maybe nine months of use, and I’ve got this reference number here…I’d like to know if there’s a website where I can use it to track the status of the repair.”<\/p>\n
“Repair? Can you confirm your serial number?”<\/p>\n
“I just want to know if there’s a website….”<\/p>\n
…but, apparently, she needs me to confirm my sereal number, so I dig out the photos of the monitor….<\/p>\n
“Okay, ETL95….”<\/p>\n
“No, your serial number is going to start with [two letters I didn’t catch] or P[something].”<\/p>\n
“…it didn’t last time I called in….”<\/p>\n
“What?”<\/p>\n
“I said: This is what the serial number was when I called in on Thursday about the monitor being broken. The person who gave me the Reference Number was okay with the serial number I gave him at the time….”<\/p>\n
“Well, do you have a Service [something something something].”<\/p>\n
“I have a REFERENCE NUMBER<\/i>.”<\/p>\n
“What is it?”<\/p>\n
“13EDX….”<\/p>\n
“13EIX?”<\/p>\n
I correct her, read the rest of the number off to her, and she disappears for a while. I’m subjected to a strange, tinny combination of hip hop and country.<\/p>\n
She returns, “When did you send this out? Friday?”<\/p>\n
“I would have to check to be precise, but I’m fairly certain it was Thursday.”<\/p>\n
“Okay, well, it says here that….”<\/p>\n
“It was delivered today. I know. I have the signature of the person who signed for it. All I want to know is if there’s a website where I can use the REFERENCE NUMBER I got on THURSDAY to check on the STATUS of the REPAIR and\/or REPLACEMENT of the MONITOR.”<\/p>\n
“Oh, a website? No, you have to call us and give us the number. And you need to give us some time.”<\/p>\n
“So, I should call back on Friday….”<\/p>\n
“Yes. [Something about Friday, time, and possibly Spam.]”<\/p>\n
“Okay, then. Bye.”<\/p>\n
“Have a nice day.”<\/p>\n
I hung up. And now I’m very concerned about what’s going to happen next, because shit like this is never, ever a good sign.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I just checked, and FedEx reported that the monitor had been delivered [and I now have the guy’s signature in pdf form], so I figure now would be the time to call up and find out what the hell I’m … Continue reading