Last week Frontier Airlines announced they eliminated their phone customer service. From now on, customers will have to get information electronically or with live chat. They believe that their digital communications system will “ensure our customers get the information they need as expeditiously and efficiently as possible.” How they determined “expeditiously” is beyond me? My personal experience with web sites is mixed at best. Yes, sometimes, I can find my answer quickly. More often than not though, my digital communications encounters are a trip into Internet Hell. Not all situations are the same. Reconfirming a booking is easy electronically. Correcting an error in a booking is a different story altogether.

This is particularly irksome in situations when I know a company employee can answer my question almost immediately — saving me time, ensuring that I have a clear understanding of my situation and stopping me from frustrated searches through numerous web pages. I guess it is pretty selfish of me to want a quick answer from a company employee when I can just as easily spend hours searching for the right page. Frontier, will counter that there is live chat if I need to reach the company directly. But, and here is my big problem with live chat, I only contact the airline when the digital tools they provided me have failed to help me. I only call when I am desperate. So, while live chat may be an option, by the time I resort to it, I am already frustrated and I just want help. At this point, typing out the details of my questions is just fueling my anger about the lack of help I have already received.

I want to talk to a person when I reach this level of frustration. It makes me feel better. I know that the company understands my problem and I know that someone is working on my problem. But, you say, Live Chat can do that too. It is exactly the same thing except you are communicating through the web instead of a phone. Maybe but I prefer talking to a person and Frontier won’t let me because its position is incredibly limited to the point of arrogance, they are forcing customers to use their digital tools. If a customer has the temerity to call their customer service phone number, the system will eventually hang up on them. Disconnecting customers who want to use the phone is irritating and insulting particularly when last week your company would have answered those same calls.

What irritates me the most is the glaringly dishonest corporate spin that introduced this change in service. The notion that Frontier is providing the the same level of customer service, if not better, than the company delivered before is quite clearly wrong. Nobody hung up on a customer’s phone call a week ago. This is a cost cutting exercise and it has nothing to do with better customer service. So don’t tell me I am smelling roses when I know it is bullshit.

Many years back, so long that I can’t remember exact dates, Bob and I were forced by our insurance company to get an alarm system. No alarm system, no reasonably priced insurance. Bob determined that the reduced price of the insurance would offset the additional price of the alarm system so we took the plunge. I write this because while it is comforting to know that if we have an emergency (Break In, Fire, or Radon Gas) an alarm will ring, the truth is the system has served as an annoyance more than a comfort. The alarms have gone off for a variety of reasons other than a genuine emergency. Wind blowing a badly closed door opens, someone leaving the house and forgetting to disarm the alarms, burning food in the kitchen and low batteries are just a few of the examples. This means when we hear the alarms sounding we usually think why is that goddamn system going off now.

The other day, we heard a chirping noise. We ignored it. Then we heard a few heart stopping blares, then back to the chirping. Much to our chagrin, we paused our television program that, by the way, was getting really good, to search for a reason. We discovered that the batteries in the fire alarm were low. We changed the batteries. The chirping noise stopped, the heart stopping blare stopped, so, problem solved. Or not. The warning light on our console now was telling us that the alarm system was tampered with. Initially, we thought it was a simple matter of acknowledging the error and the system would reset. It didn’t reset. We tried numerous times. Nothing worked. Left with no other options, we called the alarm company’s customer support.

You know the routine, phone tree, press button 1 if you want, and after a minute or two we were connected to a nice person who tried to help us. Before we could talk to the agent, we had to verify that we were indeed the owners of the house. Bob gave our profile information and the secret code that confirms our ownership and allows the tech person to talk with us about our problem. The tech support person suspected that I hadn’t screwed the alarm all the way back into the ceiling when changing the batteries. I get on the ladder, notice that there was indeed a slight gap between the apparatus and the ceiling. Good, maybe she was right. I tried to screw it in. It doesn’t move. I twist, I turn, the apparatus doesn’t move. Bob tries. He, too, is unable to move the alarm. It is a very delicate mechanism and we are afraid that we are going to break the alarm as we tug, pull, twist and curse it to no avail. We let the agent know our concerns and she tells us it would be better off if we didn’t break it because then we would have to buy it. We agreed with her.

We were actually happy customers now except for the error notice on the console. Bob told her that the alarm seems to be working as there were no more chirping noises or heart stopping blares from the alarm. All we wanted was for the noises to stop. The noises have stopped, so we were happy to end the call there. She informed us that the noised could return after we end the call. Bob asked her to just turn off the alarm in the central system. This was, for some reason, impossible. She tried to explain. I still can’t understand her explanation but Bob seemed to. I deferred to his judgement. She told us that we need to disconnect the system’s battery to insure that the noises would stay stopped. Bob goes to where the alarm’s central system is in our house. She told him to look for the green battery. Bob doesn’t see a green battery and, on closer inspection, the battery he does find with the alarm system doesn’t appear to be connected to the system at all.

Seeing that this going nowhere fast, she tells us so schedule a tech person to come out and fix our system. Bob, thinking logically, I believe, asked her to schedule us. She can’t schedule service call, she handles customer support problems. She needed to transfer us to the scheduling department which she kindly did. The man who answers asked us for the profile information and the secret code that identifies Bob as the owner of the house. Bob explained the problem again. The scheduler was stumped because he was at a central number and this was an urgent matter. If he were to schedule through the central scheduling system it would take a week or more before he could get an open date for someone to come out to us. He said we needed to contact someone at local tech support in order to get faster service. He doesn’t understand why the central tech person transferred us to central scheduling in the first place. It would have been easier for her to have contacted the local tech person who would then call us. Why didn’t she take care of this? Bob, unfortunately, can’t explain the tech person thinking. The scheduler tells us he needs to send us back to the tech team so they can schedule someone locally. Bob asks will he have to repeat the problem. The man assures him that he won’t.

But Bob did have to give the new tech person his personal profile details and the secret code which showed he was the owner of the house. Once supplied, the new tech person was stumped because the scheduling agent sent us to the wrong company. Apparently, the parent company had gobbled up a bunch of other alarm companies so it could become the biggest alarm company in the whole damn world. So while she worked for the parent company technically, the different companies still stored their information in different computer systems. She didn’t have access to our information. She was perplexed on why the man would send us to her in the first place. Bob couldn’t help her with an answer.

She transferred us to another very nice woman who, after Bob supplies his personal details and his secret code, is from the right alarm company and can help us. She reads us the notes the other agents have been taking so we have some assurance that people have been listening to us and documenting the information. She has to notify a local tech person to schedule a visit. They will have to talk to us because they will need to squeeze us in between the already scheduled customers and will need to talk to us in person in order to do this. She tells us that this usually takes no more than 24 hours for them to return a call.

What about the chirping noise and the heart stopping blare which we haven’t heard since starting this marathon phone call and the only reason we have pursued this matter further was we wanted to make sure these noises were stopped. She didn’t really know for sure. It could work fine until the local tech person came to reset. Or the chirping and the heart stopping blare could resume after we hung up. She told us to call back if the noises began again. Bob assured her we would.

The within 24 hour response came 70 hours later. The return call was from the central tech support and not the local tech support. This was baffling since the whole reason for us asking local tech support to call us was because the central scheduling department told us it was an urgent matter and we would get a much faster service call locally. But, never mind. She then asked if we could wait a few more tiny days. Since the chirping and the heart stopping blare were quiet for now, we could. It is, however, amusing to think that if the original scheduler, who didn’t want us to wait a week for an appointment, had only scheduled an appointment when we first called him, we would have probably gotten faster service than we were going to get by waiting for the local tech support to squeeze us into their schedule. But, yet again, never mind.

When last we left our hero, he needed to determine the decision date for continuation of his medical insurance. He tried using all the written documentation and the on line information provided.   He learned absolutely nothing about the decision due date. He goes to bed pledging to renew his battle the next day.

Thinking it would be a simple phone call, I call WageWorks, the insurance company, approximately an hour before I needed to depart for a lunch date. I also figure in a quick shower within this hour. After all, I have plenty of time and all I want is a lousy date.

I call WageWorks which goes to a call center that is obviously not in the United States. I explain to the woman that what I need. She immediately puts me on hold. Every few minutes, she checks back with me explaining that she is looking for the answer. I wait patiently, listening to the on hold music which is really bad. I mean it is really really bad. It sounds like a recording of a painfully untalented six year old. Every so once in awhile, the keys are pounded vigorously, and then short but frequent gaps of no music when I imagine the prodigy is trying to find his place on the sheet music, then either a tentative ting on the key or a hammer like pound on the ivories. I put my phone on speaker and renew my own search for the date on line.

After about fifteen minutes of bad piano, the woman returns to the line and explains that she can only help with HSA accounts and that I would need to call my former employer to see how to handle my COBRA account. I reply that my document states I need to contact them. She says only for HSA accounts. My document doesn’t say that. Her command of English deteriorates as our conversation continues. Realizing I am getting nowhere with her and knowing that my old companies call center is in the US, I decide to try them. After all, all I want is a lousy date.

The benefit’s representative asks me for my employee number. I explain that I am no longer an employee. I am calling about COBRA benefits. She says they don’t handle COBRA. I tell her that I was told to call my former employer as WageWorks didn’t have this information. She tries pulling my details through my social security number. Nothing appears on her screen. She explains that she will need to find someone who can help me.

The second woman listens to every painful detail of my story before deciding that she too would be unable to help me. She puts me on hold while she locates someone who can help. I patiently wait. The on hold music, however, is quite tolerable. It is easy listening instrumentals of classic rock that seem to be performed by professional musicians.   In the interim, I received a text message saying that my lunch date needs an additional 15 minutes, which I am glad to have gotten the reminder as I had kind of forgotten about my date. I check the clock. I have about ten minutes before I have to leave. I am already committed to the phone call , so I opt to wait for the representative to return and I will go to my lunch smelly and scruffy.

While I am rearranging my schedule to accommodate this phone call, a third woman comes on line with a strained voice of someone who is about to deliver bad news. I wait. She explains that they have outsourced the Health Insurance elections for Cobra to a company called WageWorks and that I would need to call them. I tell her that WageWorks just told me to call my former employer. She wearily responds, “I know that.” I am frustrated. I tell her all I want is a lousy date. “Can’t you do anything for me?” She sighs. She would like to help but she doesn’t have any of my information. I needed to call WageWorks. Wageworks has all of my information.

Then I remembered that WageWorks indeed has all of my information as I was able to register last night and the system filled in all of the blanks with my name, address, phone number and even my bank’s routing information. Since they were delivered all of this private information with the anticipation of me signing up for benefits, they certainly must be able to help me. I am registered. Armed with this new information I feel ready to tackle WageWorks and get my decision date. Except now I have run out of time and need to leave for lunch. Part of me thinks that this will be easy, it will take one second to get this information. Then, the other part of me, the rational, reality-based Tom realizes that this is not going to take a minute and I decide to tackle this assignment after lunch. I leave unshowered, unshaved and frustrated for lunch.

So after trying for little more than an hour yesterday evening and another hour this morning, I still don’t know when I need to make my decision.

Stay tuned for Part III — the third and final installment.

All I wanted was a due date.

My Health Care company sent me a 40-page document explaining the big changes in coverage for 2018. One small but important detail was missing from this opus – the date that my decision was due. This date was extremely important because the document stated, in no uncertain terms, that if I missed the closing date that they would make my health plan selection for me.

I was certain the date would be somewhere in the colorful charts and graphs liberally displayed throughout the 40 pages. I mean who writes a 40-page document with constant warnings about the due date and not give the due. I skimmed the document quickly. The decision date was missing. I carefully and slowly reread the document and I found my answer. Wait, that’s not true. I found some wording that pointed to an answer – it said check the WageWorks web site for the closing date with yet another warning about being prompt about my decision or else.

This meant I had to reread the document yet again. Much to my chagrin, I don’t find a website address. I do notice, however, that every time the document had the word WageWorks that it was in a different color print much like if you were reading a document on line. The brightly colored print highlights the hyperlinked words. If I were reading on line, all I would have to do is click the hyperlink. The only problem is I was reading a print document. Clicking on a piece of paper takes me no where. I do try in case I was wrong because I hate when you talk to a help desk person and they snarl something like, “you didn’t try to click on the print document.” And, of course, you feel like a complete idiot when the action you thought was obviously wrong was in fact the right thing to do. You will be happy to know, I was correct. There is no need to click a hyperlink in a print document. It will not send you to the web site.

After taking a fourth look at the document, I surrendered and googled WageWorks. I found the WageWork web address and went  to the site. There was a lot of positive feedback about the company and what it was doing, it’s goals, etc. but I failed to locate a closing date for my medical insurance decision. I am doing this all at midnight so their help desk is closed. I read something that leads me to believe that if I register with WageWorks, everything I ever wanted to know about Wageworks would be then revealed to me. I figure I would have to register eventually so I register. To my shock, it is easy. Wageworks has all of my information. I type in F and Fitzpatrick appears. I type in T and Thomas appears. All I have to do is confirm if they have the correct information. I carry on until I see my bank account number and my banks routing information.

This upsets me. How did they get my banking information? I didn’t give it to them. I never even heard of Wageworks until I opened the document they sent me. I try to close out of the document but they have hidden the little X in the corner that will close you out. After hitting escape and various other keys without luck, I decide what the hell they already have the information. I am not keeping them from anything and I will probably have to register with them and they will need this information anyway. Why not complete the registration and I can talk to them tomorrow and straighten things out. I depress the enter key and voila, I am registered.

Except registering doesn’t give me access to any more information than I had when I was unregistered. The due date is still missing. There is a tab called questions. I depress it. The screen changes but there is no little box where you type your question. Maybe it is hidden in one of the other tabs. I click through them seeing if there is a box for me to type my question or, better yet, a due date for my decision.

I try a different web browser because I have had this problem with a different company and learned that if you change your browser, sometimes everything works as designed. Which is annoying and I brought this up to the help desk person who offered this solution. “How am I supposed to know which browser I should be using?” She cheerfully replied, “Oh you can’t.” I pointed out that her company’s preferred solution in handling this known problem was to wait for the customer to become so frustrated and angry that they are forced to seek assistance from the help desk. She cheerfully informed me that this problem had been escalated to the highest level of the company and that we should expect a solution any day.

I could go on about this customer service problem but I digress from the customer service I was original talking about. I don’t want to be confusing. Really, I don’t. Any way, I try a different browser. Complete and utter failure. I can’t see a due date and I can’t find a question box. At this point, I surrender. I realize I am going to have to contact them in the morning. Except that I am wired now and I can’t get to sleep. I am grinding my teeth and imagining the pithy statements I will be making tomorrow once I finally reach a person who can take me out of this Hell. Or not.