The Coffee Chronicles

No, not the Internet...what are you, nuts? Especially, that is, after this announcement [requisite /. article here.].

Well, it's finally come down to this. With a final ceremonial viewing of Good Eats last night, we have carried out a promise - to ourselves and to future generations, no doubt - to give up cable TV, as I had hinted previously with the coming-and-going of SatC.

Even as I write, Charter's cable-decoder box sits in the backseat of my car, awaiting its final destination at the local "payment lobby" - apparently a modern corporate society term for "location of inconceivable inconvenience." It should be noted that the last time I showed my face there, it was to move our service from Long Beach to Pasadena, a chore that should have, by rights, been more paper-shuffling than head-banging; alas, it was not to be. As this post rapidly digresses - as it should, given the subject of my unintended homage - I will share with you a discovery, of sorts, that I have lately made. As our society has become, by degrees, one that depends upon customer support (CS) in its many forms, I have noted certain - patterns, shall we say? - that seem to repeat. These patterns are particularly evident in the behavior of telephone-based CS departments, such as the one employed by my soon-to-be late, lamented cable company, and I will restrict my generalizations to them here. I can outline some of my findings in the following manner:

1. CS agents never solve a problem when given more than the minimum amount of data needed to understand it; i.e., do not, under any circumstances, give a CS agent more information than is strictly necessary.
2. The first CS agent contacted will tell you exactly what you want to hear, or rather, what you expected to hear.
3. The second agent will give you some information that in at least some way directly contradicts that given by the first agent, even if you provide exactly the same background information.
4. If a third call is made, that CS agent will most likely provide redundant information, and only be useful for error-checking towards the first two calls.
5. In general, then, all corroborated or contradicted information is likely to be useful, when considered in the appropriate way. Full corroboration, however, is likely to result in diminishing returns.

This statistical data has been collected by dint of evidence, over time, as I have tried to prise the fingers of corporate society from my wallet. Nevertheless, I should hope that this data will prove useful to those who read it; in that spirit, then, I offer this Theorem, which I might narcissistically imagine will someday become "Joe's First Law of Customer Support":


Please note that this Theorem also has a probable corollary, in that increasing the number of calls does not necessarily increase the probability of solving your problem. Lest you think that this notion only applies to questions of billing and service - which might apply to, say, a cable company - I will suggest that the much-vaunted ways of Tech Support (TS) also fall under these assertions. Witness this article on Salon to quell any doubts you might have [register for the non-binding "one day" pass; the read alone is worth it.].

So - to get to the point, finally - what really concerns me here is the fact that Charter's local "payment lobby" has a real live person behind the bulletproof plexiglass. I'm afraid, in this case, that the First Theorem will not hold, as there is no definable "second call." I walk in, hand over my cable box, ask, "Will you guys screw up my cablemodem service because of this?" To which the CS agent will likely answer, "No," and I'll walk out, never knowing the truth.

Until, of course, my Internet connection barfs, and I have to start this damnable cycle all over again. Tune in tomorrow, faithful readers. If my wire is still hot, that is.

No, no...I think averaging a month between log entries is a good way to create a buzz. Really.

I don't know what's been going on lately, but you can rest assured that the fact that I've been feeling busy is a perfect sign that I've been doing absolutely nothing. My life seems to possess a singular contrariness, I've noted. And, what's even more damning, there is usually an unmistakable scent of irony in the air while I'm attempting to set things on the straight-and-narrow. My only solace, perhaps, is that it gets better - and more entertaining - in the telling. Oh, I'll write about it, to be sure, but that's only because I've nothing better to write about.

[someone, give this boy a job, please. we're not talking copy editor, for pete's sake; maybe something entry-level: the mailroom, perhaps? or even something in the editorial cartoon department - he could be a tracer. let the boy write about something, for the love of pete. -ed.]

Like I have nothing better to do. Well, I don't. Oh, I've got plenty to do, don't you worry about that, but nothing better. It's a sad state, wheels spinning as they are. Now, you take these people. Obviously, they've got plenty of important things to do. And, what's more, they're Cooler Than You. Yes, all three of them.

Welcome, Jonah, and just you wait until we tell you about all the crazy shit your parents did before they made you.