The Breakup


We had been together six long years. 


The union began in 2006 when I was just a college girl.  I was young and unassuming then, blinded by material things and the prospect of having a Sidekick.   I wasn’t quite ready to break things off with the previous one though.  For some time, I balanced both.    Sometimes I’d go out with the two of them at the same time.  Other times, I’d leave one home while I went out on the town with the other.   When I graduated college and moved out of state, they both came with me.   It was very convenient because when one wasn’t being receptive, I knew I could call on the other one.   Eventually, I found that I just didn’t have a need for the two of them.   So I terminated the older one. 


What started out as Sidekick, was no longer anything of the sort.   I moved again in 2009.  Matters were different.  The channels of communication had severely deteriorated.   When I switched job locations, things got even worse.  I tried my best to reconcile our differences, but I couldn’t even have a conversation anymore without being abruptly hung up on. While there were generally no issues in the bedroom, it seemed like everywhere else, I just couldn’t rely upon my supposed provider.   I invited the intervention of others.   They suggested spicing things up with new toys.   At first, the toys were great.  They distracted from the substantive problems and kept me captive longer.   Despite the pleasures they brought, the facts remained:  I was constantly aggravated because of this relationship and it was negatively impacting my communications with others.


Several times, I had the opportunity to make a clean break.  Momentarily, I would feel relief, but I just couldn’t break away.  I’d find myself committing for two more years in spite of my better judgment.   In February of this year, it seemed like the last straw.  I was ready to jump ship when a specimen by the name of Justin talked me out of it.   He spoke of change.  He told me to give it another chance and that I wouldn’t regret it.  During the first week or two, I saw some improvement, but it wasn’t long before I was once again at my wit’s end with this relationship.  My friends told me I had to get out of this, but I felt trapped.  I hadn’t been serviced by another in years.  I trolled around on the internet in search of something better.   Simultaneously, I began trying to distance myself from the relationship I was in.  Every time I’d try to pull away, there was an effort to lure me in or a voice telling me that I couldn’t leave.  I thought I had found a great replacement, but during the time I had taken to reflect on it, the potential new one changed its terms and placed limitations on what was previously unlimited.  What was I to do?  I wasn’t happy with my current situations, but the alternative was no longer appealing.


Roughly one week a month, my body and mind are overtaken by Herculean hormonal forces.   During this time, my emotions are exasperated.   Naturally, there is a direct correlation between the tension in the relationship and the hormones in my body.  During the most recent hormonal invasion, I unleashed the wrath of MoMo in an attempt to finally end this unhealthy cycle of bullshit.  The terms of separation had to be negotiated.  And even after we had agreed to the terms, executing was not without its pain.  But, I do not regret my decision.  In fact, my only regret is that I didn’t leave sooner.



In case you haven’t picked up on it to this point, my counterpart in the above-described relationship was T-Mobile.  On average, I experienced 4-10 dropped calls a day.  When I called to complain, the T-Mobile warlocks told me that perhaps there was a problem with my device.  I replaced my device several times. 


In February I switched from a Blackberry to an android phone.   Reception seemed to mildly improve.  Soon thereafter, it hit the shitter again.   I once again called T-Mobile to launch a complaint.  Their crafty wizards told me that my reception problems were stemming from my SIM card.  According to them, I didn’t have a 4G card in my 4G capable device.  I told them that my device barely performed at ½ a G speed and that the SIM card in the device was whatever one the T-Mobile employee at the store where I had purchased the device had inserted in it.  The representative told me that I would have to go to a T-Mobile store to retrieve a new SIM card.  I responded that I would do no such thing and demanded that T-Mobile ship me a new SIM.  The T-Mobile minion on the other end said that it was impossible for him to arrange shipment of a SIM card without charging me because “the system” wouldn’t allow him to.  My reply, “What’s going on over there? You got people running machines or machines running people?”  He laughed (somewhat nervously).  I instructed him to beat the system and that if he couldn’t do it, to get a supervisor to make it happen.   He succumbed to MoMo’s unyielding demands, but before the process was complete, the call dropped!!!!  A frustrated MoMo called back and immediately requested a supervisor to spare the further aggravation of dealing with a customer service peasant.   The supervisor assured me that the new SIM card would alleviate the reception issues.  She explained that the 2G card in the device was fatigued from trying to access the 4G towers.  A narcoleptic SIM card…  I shared with her that I, like the SIM card, was fatigued from calling and bitching all of the time about T-Mobile’s inadequate service. 


The SIM was shipped and inserted into my device.  ZERO IMPROVEMENT!!!  Again, I contacted my friends at T-Mobile to report that the supposedly alert replacement SIM card did not solve the problem.  At that point, the wizards told me they’d send engineers out to my area to determine the issue.  Of course, they didn’t call me back to provide me with the “engineers’ findings.”  I’m a persistent mother fucker though, so I called them and had the following conversation:

T-Mobile Asshole: Our engineers say that coverage in your area is limited because of the terrain, buildings and foliage.
Me: So are you suggesting I move to an open field?
T-Mobile Asshole: That would definitely help to increase the signal strength.
Me: Does that seem like a reasonable solution to you? I should move to another house and apply for another job because T-Mobile doesn’t provide service in my area? It’s not like I’m bitching about not having service in the Serengeti. I live in NJ. We have trees and buildings here. Should I leave the state just so that my phone can work?!

I was finally ready to make the switch from T-Mobile to Verizon.  But, I faced two obstacles.  First, I was locked into a contract with T-Mobile until Feb. 2013.  Second, as of July 7, Verizon had discontinued its unlimited data plan.  I am a very heavy mobile device user.  Accordingly, I require unlimited everything.  Plus, psychologically, I don’t like the idea of having constraints. 


To address the first obstacle, I launched a campaign during hormonal invasion week called, “Call T-Mobile every fucking day to report the number of dropped calls I’ve experienced.”    At the conclusion of the week, I called and asked to speak to the Customer Loyalty Department.   The department basically told me I was shit out of luck.  In my world, I don’t accept that response.  I called again the next day and asked to speak to Customer Loyalty.  We were able to work out a deal, because I’m a reasonable person, in which I would be allowed to downgrade my plan to a $5/month, port my number out to another carrier and get a new number with T-Mobile to fulfill my $5/month plan until the contract end date (which they back dated for me from June ’13 to Feb. ’13).  (Total contract value $95 over the course of over a year vs. $200 early termination fee due immediately.)  It’s not about money though.  It’s about principle.  But, I had to cut my losses at some point to spare my time and blood pressure.


Next, I had to find a way to acquire a grandfathered in Verizon unlimited data plan.  I ran through my mental rolodex in search of friends who have Verizon unlimited data plans, but likely don’t even go close to approaching the 2gb limit imposed on the newer data plans.  I solicited a few of them as to whether they’d be willing to let me assume liability on their contracts.  They declined my offer.  As mentioned above, shit out of luck doesn’t work for me.  I resorted to people on the interwebs.  First I posted a facebook status message.  No luck.   Next stop: Craigslist.  My search in the New Jersey section did not yield any results.  I expanded my search to other regions.  I sent out a few emails.  A nice Canadian from California wrote back first.  He was looking for someone to assume liability on his contract because he was moving back to Canada in the imminent future.   He said he’d give me his iPhone 4 free of charge.   We did the deal and one week later I had the iPhone serviced by Verizon in hand.  As it turns out, I’m an android girl.  Less than twelve hours after having the iPhone, I purchased a Droid Charge. 


Porting my number to Verizon was painless.  However, the subsequent process with T-Mobile was, as I expected, comparable to what I imagine an enema would feel like.  I posted the following status messages/comments related to my call with T-Mobile:


When I call, several times, to confirm the proper order of operations in a transaction, and then I execute accordingly, I expect a seamless process. But, with T-Mobile, I instead get a fucking headache and increased blood pressure. #ThanksForTheTrash


I need a serious dose of chill pills.


Tell me why I need to speak to four different ninnies who tell me various creative reasons why what I’m requesting (which request was previously blessed and documented by the T-Mobile fuckers) cannot happen. But ultimately, after enough bitching from yours truly, the process goes through without any of the purported complications with which the first four incompetents burdened my patience. #</3T-


T-Mobile totally fucked up their customer support line.


First, a customer is faced with the epic challenge of battling the automated system in an effort to be transferred to the appropriate department. Customer loses said battle 99.9% of the time.


Then, if and when a customer finally reaches a human being, said human being is located in Bangladesh or whatever other English-as-a-second-language locations. I don’t mind accents, but apparently, these individuals have difficulty comprehending the supposed New Jersey accent.


Third, the human that the customer was rejoicing to have on the line, turns out to be less helpful and more frustrating than the automated bitch who answered in the first place.


Fourth, the endless transfer process ensues.


Fifth, MoMo loses her shit, demands a supervisor, begins speaking in monotone (a true sign that she’s livid) and perseveres to have the final person on the line accomplish the original mission by any means necessary.

Up until a few months ago, it wasn’t like this. Previously, I could get through the automated system by continuously pressing zero and the human that would answer spoke and comprehended English quite well.


Matters haven’t been fully resolved with T-Mobile, but the good news is that I’ve had zero dropped calls with Verizon so far!!




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