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Disconnection Difficulties

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THOUGH ENTERING A CONTRACT FOR NEW SERVICES IS A BREEZE HERE IN MALAYSIA, HUGH UJHAZY DISCOVERS THAT TERMINATING THE CONTRACT CAN PROVE FAR MORE CHALLENGING.

As the song says, “breaking up is hard to do.” Never truer words spoken than in the case of services provided to consumers on these fair shores. Many companies have tried to improve their customer service and, indeed, enabling internet connectivity to my office was a snap. Online chat, support web page, bills to my email and, if all else failed, a toll-free number to talk to a human being. For a year (like most honeymoons) it was brilliant, mainly because my supplier of convenient connectivity and I had never actually met. And then came the day when I moved away, changed offices, and found that my needs were not being met as assumed; actually, connectivity was slower than the old dial-up modem and a new suitor came calling. Going to the website to try to cancel was a no go. Call the contact center: “Sorry sir, you have to go to our office.” In the car, down the road, take the number from the machine, sit, think, fill in the form and watch the hands on the clock go round in ever-slowing circles.

Then my time comes and I must deliver the bad news. “Dear John, sorry but your Internet service is no longer enough….” The bored customer service lady behind the desk insisted I had more things that didn’t belong to me than I actually had. A short altercation later and we’d sorted that one out. Exchange of documents, filling in of green forms in triplicate, and it seemed as if we would be done. But no. “Can you come back Thursday?” she asked, disinterest dripping like saltwater on already ragged wounds. “To pick up your deposit.” The parting was reminiscent of breaking off a bad relationship. Go back to pick up the old record collection, the torn towel from the bathroom, the cans of beer from the fridge, all the while trying to avoid eye contact and just get the hell out as fast as possible.

Why must it be this way? Moving offices this year has taught me that cancelling services is a challenging thing. There are rules to it, and I will share these to help the unwary:

The Deposit. The old saying “What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine” is clung to for as long as possible. Even though during the relationship you paid your bills on time, in spite of friendly messages, the return of the deposit is a little challenging. It takes time, apparently, to write a cheque or even to refund your bank account, even though you may have been paying into the provider’s account for months, if not years. The Equipment. Heaven help you if you have equipment such as modems or other such paraphernalia. These must be returned, inspected, rejected, disinfected, and selected in a silent, grim examination. This is usually performed in a public place, in silence, and each nook and cranny is appraised for its quality. “Do you have the box?” is also the question. So check you have all the bits before seeking to attend

The Lost Inventory. Invariably, there will be things which are lost. You can’t find the box, the warranty card, the invoice, the bills from the last ten years. Scrabbling through boxes and shelves in the back of the closet until eventually you decide to return, hangdog, to the customer service center and face your punishment.

Your identity. Whatever you do, make sure you have some piece of paper to identify yourself. It’s for your own protection, and the break-up will proceed no further until you do.

Finally, I was done. Relieved, somewhat lightheaded, I walked out to the car and drove away. It was over. I vowed to be more careful next time; keep the boxes, file the invoices, and make sure all the bits were maintained.

Sad how we love to fool ourselves. One day you might be able to cancel your services over the phone. Maybe one day when you upgrade to the latest, fastest, most amazing service, your old service with the same company will be automatically canceled. Maybe you will be able to suspend your service until you can return the things that don’t belong to you.

Promoted

Maybe, just maybe. But it hadn’t been today. While I sat in the grim industrial cheeriness of the customer service center, my slip of paper in hand awaiting the call of my number as time slipped by, I could only dream of that wondrous day to come.

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