On Sunday, November 4, 2018, colleagues started telling me they weren’t receiving my e-mails.
Since CenturyLink is my Internet provider whose website promises to improve lives with every connection, I called their customer service number once a day for the next three days, but no one called me back despite earnest promises from the people I spoke with.
Three days later, the problem appeared to be solved.
Hallelujah!
But twelve hours later, colleagues again stopped receiving my e-mails.
So I called back early the following morning, and the tech support person asked me to check if I could send e-mails using their web-based e-mail program. I explained that I was totally blind and that I had learned through prior experience that my speech software didn’t react well to any of their software. So at her suggestion, she used my password and found that she could send me an e-mail.
Which I didn’t receive.
“The problem’s with your software,” she asserted.
“No, the problem comes from your end since I didn’t receive the e-mail you sent.”
As this circular conversation continued, I discovered that I could no longer log into my account.
“The problem’s with your software,” a supervisor told me several minutes later.
“Fine! Here’s the phone number of the firm that designs the software that I use. Call them and work things out.”
“I will,” he promised.
Instead, I received a voice mail from someone else encouraging me to call back if the software designers couldn’t resolve the problem.
I spoke with another supervisor who assured me that he was going to send a report of my woes to another department. But the person who called me back didn’t know or care about my disability-related problems, for all he did was to assist me to connect with another platform that didn’t work with my speech software while complaining that this software gave him a headache. Then he hung up.
Two hours later, I spoke with another supervisor. It turned out that one of the people I spoke with earlier that morning had changed my password and added me to CenturyLink’s text notification system without my permission. Once this supervisor reestablished my old password, I could receive e-mails.
But I still couldn’t send them.
Later that afternoon, I called CenturyLink with a friend who could read print, and the techie, four hours after taking control of my computer, still hadn’t solved the problem.
The following morning, another representative called me, and once again complained about my speech software even though I explained my situation to him with increasing irritation. He even asked if I could see the orange box on the top of the screen.
“Oh, you’re blind,” he finally said.
“Yes!” I shouted.
After apologizing profusely, he promised to find a way they could work with me.
But I never heard from him. Instead, after explaining my situation to someone else, he told me that usually the only way customers could communicate with their techies authorized to take control of a customer’s computer was through their on-line portal, but that under these circumstances, their techie would take control of my computer and someone would call me if they needed something. I thanked him for his understanding and flexibility.
I never received a phone call, and two ours later, the techie had disconnected from my computer without solving the problem. But I did find the following message in a Notepad file the techie had created.
“Please provide your password.”
The following afternoon, however, I could send e-mails that people actually received.
For three whole days.
This on-again off-again cycle has continued ever since, and during conversations with CenturyLink representatives, I have learned that customer service staff didn’t have a way to escalate an unusual problem. Pathetic! For even IRS customer service representatives can refer taxpayers to Problem Resolution Officers under certain circumstances.
Ten days after contacting CenturyLink’s headquarters by phone after finding the number on Google, I received a phone call from the person assigned to address my situation. While we have spoken several times since then, bureaucratic bottlenecks are preventing her from doing what we both know needs to be done: to connect me with someone who understands the big picture.
It’s long past time to find another provider whose customer service is better than that provided by the IRS.
10 Responses to Improving Lives with Every Connection