Thursday, May 18, 2006
A sharp pain in my large integrity
So, here I sit, thinking I'm going to help out a friend in need - a blog-brother, as it were - but I realized my PayPal info needed to be updated. Have you ever tried to update your PayPal info after you've moved? Let me assure you, friends, it's no bag of puppies and kitties. I trotted thru the site to my Profile and began, what I thought would be, the breezy task of changing my CC#, address, phone, etc. when PayPal decided to question my integritomocracy.
Me!!! A contributor to this very site, which alone should be more than adequate acknowledgement of my honesty, forthrightness and general good character as a denizen of the internets. A netizen of such pristine character and sterling reputation that one could hardly imagine, let alone expect, that I should suffer such a demeaning and dis-tegritous response from the capo of online payment processors, PayPal. But I was snubbed.
Every new piece of information I offered was met with a sneering "We'll need to call you to verify the information".
"But", I protested, "I'm no longer at that address! I have a new phone number! The old credit card is but a dream! I'm Ripley! Ripley, I tell you!"
But they would have none of it. The phone number they wanted to call was the old number. The address was the old address. I couldn't remove them without the verification phone call and I couldn't convince the system to call my new number. In short, I was good and truly fucked. My only choice, to call their (non-toll free) customer service number and plead my case. And plead, I did.
John, the nice young man from India, was patient and understanding. He did not, however, sense my integribonics from our phone conversation, as I generally devote most of my integrilistic energy toward things online. He made a few changes to make the process easier (HA!) but told me I'd still need to go thru the process of the security confirmation call.
Well, you can imagine my frustration and, dare I say, bitterness at having my online integr-o-sheen questioned, but with no alternative at hand, I completed the process to receive my security call. At which point, I received this message:
Are you motherfucking kidding me?!? After all this bullshit and 15 minutes on the fucking phone with a guy from "It's Tomorrow Here, Already" and your fucking system isn't working?!? You have the balls to take 3% of transfers when I sign in with my e-mail and password, but I can't fucking change my account information online when I log in?!? I have to wait for an automated fucking phone call?!? And when I talk to a real person, you still won't accept my fucking changes, and tell me to go thru the process again?!?
Fuck. that. noise...
What is the fucking sense of making people use the phone to set up online payment options? Jesus Christ in a horsedrawn carriage, I thought Home Town Bank was bad when they made me sign a form to set up online banking. But PayPal doesn't even have a fucking teller window!!! I don't know whether to feel insulted or flabbergasted, frankly.
I will not have my online integristicity challenged by the likes of you and your India call center, PayPal. In case you're wondering, I'm glaring at you right now. Do you feel the glare, PayPal? Well, do you???
Still glaring...
Rip -
So, here I sit, thinking I'm going to help out a friend in need - a blog-brother, as it were - but I realized my PayPal info needed to be updated. Have you ever tried to update your PayPal info after you've moved? Let me assure you, friends, it's no bag of puppies and kitties. I trotted thru the site to my Profile and began, what I thought would be, the breezy task of changing my CC#, address, phone, etc. when PayPal decided to question my integritomocracy.
Me!!! A contributor to this very site, which alone should be more than adequate acknowledgement of my honesty, forthrightness and general good character as a denizen of the internets. A netizen of such pristine character and sterling reputation that one could hardly imagine, let alone expect, that I should suffer such a demeaning and dis-tegritous response from the capo of online payment processors, PayPal. But I was snubbed.
Every new piece of information I offered was met with a sneering "We'll need to call you to verify the information".
"But", I protested, "I'm no longer at that address! I have a new phone number! The old credit card is but a dream! I'm Ripley! Ripley, I tell you!"
But they would have none of it. The phone number they wanted to call was the old number. The address was the old address. I couldn't remove them without the verification phone call and I couldn't convince the system to call my new number. In short, I was good and truly fucked. My only choice, to call their (non-toll free) customer service number and plead my case. And plead, I did.
John, the nice young man from India, was patient and understanding. He did not, however, sense my integribonics from our phone conversation, as I generally devote most of my integrilistic energy toward things online. He made a few changes to make the process easier (HA!) but told me I'd still need to go thru the process of the security confirmation call.
Well, you can imagine my frustration and, dare I say, bitterness at having my online integr-o-sheen questioned, but with no alternative at hand, I completed the process to receive my security call. At which point, I received this message:
The network is currently down. Please try again at a later time.
Are you motherfucking kidding me?!? After all this bullshit and 15 minutes on the fucking phone with a guy from "It's Tomorrow Here, Already" and your fucking system isn't working?!? You have the balls to take 3% of transfers when I sign in with my e-mail and password, but I can't fucking change my account information online when I log in?!? I have to wait for an automated fucking phone call?!? And when I talk to a real person, you still won't accept my fucking changes, and tell me to go thru the process again?!?
Fuck. that. noise...
What is the fucking sense of making people use the phone to set up online payment options? Jesus Christ in a horsedrawn carriage, I thought Home Town Bank was bad when they made me sign a form to set up online banking. But PayPal doesn't even have a fucking teller window!!! I don't know whether to feel insulted or flabbergasted, frankly.
I will not have my online integristicity challenged by the likes of you and your India call center, PayPal. In case you're wondering, I'm glaring at you right now. Do you feel the glare, PayPal? Well, do you???
Still glaring...
Rip -
Comments:
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Eef eet weel help...
I, ¡El Gato Negro! shall bathe myself at them een a most contemptuous fashion.
(bathe bathe)
(glare)
(bathe bathe)
I deed no weesh to do thees, but I
can only help that they shall rrrecover from thees experience and go on to leeve out a productive, though chastened existence.
So.
I, ¡El Gato Negro! shall bathe myself at them een a most contemptuous fashion.
(bathe bathe)
(glare)
(bathe bathe)
I deed no weesh to do thees, but I
can only help that they shall rrrecover from thees experience and go on to leeve out a productive, though chastened existence.
So.
How dare they question your integritificusness! Have they signed the pledge? Have they? I snarl at them!
Well, that's it, EGN bathed at them. Paypal is toast. Done. Ruined. Fucked.
Good business opportunity for someone.
Good business opportunity for someone.
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