As soon as one crisis ends, another one begins. My star-cross'd vacation is now in jeopardy not because of work, but because of my impulsive TiVo purchase of two weeks ago. I'm still trying to schedule the installation of the new dish, so that I can start the service.
It would be easy to let this all go until I get back from the lake, except for one thing: My first day back is the thirtieth day after I bought the equipment. Part of the "special offer" was a commitment to connect to the service within thirty days. The penalty, if I miss the deadline, is $350.00, charged to the credit card number they already have.
The equipment was supposed to be here in three to five days; it took four. An installer was supposed to call within five to seven days; after six, I called them.
Or rather, I tried to call the company I bought the equipment from, but every time I got through the messaging system maze to the extension I needed, I got either a busy signal or a disconnect. Buzz buzz, or click. Not even close to "How may I help you?"
So I sent them an email. They phoned me the next day (that was Wednesday, a holiday) and asked if I had any questions. I asked them why an installer hadn't called me yet to set up an appointment. When I bought my original dish from Best Buy, the installer had called the next day.
They gave me the number of the company that sets up installations, but I couldn't call them until the next day (because of the holiday). When I called them (it was a toll-free number), they gave me the number of a local company. Except it was a company in Sacramento, which is a long-distance call from here. When I rang that number, they gave me the name of the fellow who does installations in Santa Rosa. They said they would give him all my information, and he would call me. In case I didn't hear from him that day (yesterday), they gave me his cell phone number and a work order number.
I've already paid for the installation, two weeks ago. I'm less than a week away from going on vacation (I hope). Now it's another weekend. I dialed up the guy's cell phone this morning and left a pleading message on his voice mail. Still waiting for the callback I asked for. More nervous about this now than the big check (which finally arrived in today's mail).
Plus, on top of all the stress of trying to make this happen, I'm missing out on my TiVo. I fully expected to have the thing programmed by now so that it would automatically record every episode of Big Brother 2, and every movie featuring Stockard Channing, Eliza Dushku or Don Cheadle.
You know how I hate to make phone calls. Every extra one I have to make is that much more of an irritant. The trouble is that the man I'm dealing with now is so many levels removed from the people who set this disaster in motion that I can't be mad at him. In fact, I don't dare show him how upset I am about all this, since my fate is in his hands (along with my $350.00).