An Ode to Old Man Davies

Bad customer service is easy to come by. We are fed lackadaisical lolly-gagging where mediocrity is the mantra of serving the masses. They must be doing this to piss us off...

Seize your problem by the 1-800 push button punching bag hotline, dial in an error to rectify despair. Wade through the hip deep menu pit, so many options but nothing applies to me, all I want is a human can't you see. They must be doing that to piss me off...

Tempt the temper tantrum seas, "Your called will be answered in the order it’s taken, stay on hold, if you please” The queue for you seems ten miles long while listening to the soulful saxophone of a Kenny G song. An eternity of bad elevator music sets the scene, pull out your hair but don’t despair, account numbers, security questions, a clear answer must be near. They must be doing that to piss me off...

You overbilled me, my conscious kills me to deal with such battle and strife “Sure you can transfer me, what else was I going to do with my life?" and then, click, bang, what a hang, the dial tone just shot poor me. That's it, they did it, they pissed me off...

I've changed my service, I've switched my plan, I'll never buy that thing again. Too late, I am pissed, and now I'm off...