BRE, brave soul that she is, dug out the manual and called the customer service number. She was on the phone for, I kid you not, at least an hour and a half. She had one customer service guy hang up on her; one who knew nothing, and her supervisor knew nothing and cared even less, and then she spent a better part of an hour getting switched from department to department, with nobody actually being able to give her any information. At one point, I heard her yell, "No wait, don't transfer me, I just came from there- crap!" All she wanted to know was, is this a $20 repair, or a$300 repair? Sadly, no one knew. I knew it was getting bad when I heard her yelling, "I'm trapped in the Customer Service Vortex of Hell." Never a good sign. She was finally able to find an actual repair center, although it wasn't open, so she thought she'd leave a message. Did they have an answering machine? Of course not! By the time this was all over, the throbbing vein in her forehead had subsided and she was laughing, kind of hysterically. Poor BRE. This is why I make her socks.
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1 comment:
Geeze, I would have needed a stiff drink or two after that.
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