a tech support story that a friend told me that you might find amusing

You like computer stories so here's one for you. We have never been able to get sound streaming working on this machine. Either I get a message telling me I need a plug-in and then that message is followed by "But we can't recommend the plug-in you need because it doesn't exist (slight exaggeration only)" or the music fades in and out. Yesterday a Mahler Lister of Belgian persuasion sent me a sound file of Charles Trenet's "Boum" and it did play though in two sections. I am using Netscape Communicator 4.7 with the automatic download of RealPlayer G2 (NetCom is more stable on Macs than Internet Explorer). I went to the Netscape homepage, clicked on the "Try out our radio" only to be greeted with some variation of "You can't play this" message.

So I got on the phone with Apple and agreed (through clenched teeth) to pay the $49.00 per episode tech assist fee. After about 30 minutes of holding, waiting, and talking, the tech told me the problem was not with the Mac but with Netscape. She refunded my $49.00. So I tried to raise someone at Netscape. Their per episode fee is $35.00; at least I felt I was heading in the right direction BUT the 1-800 number required that I key my credit card into their computer and their computer "didn't recognize my tone" (good grief!) so it wouldn't take the charge. I must have spent 30 minutes trying to find a real, live, human being.

Finally I called corporate headquarters in California (not exactly nextdoor to Massachusetts) and talked to a person who said the computer would recognize her tone. She took my charge card number, asked whether I had a Mac or was using windows, and put me on hold for at least 20 minutes. When the tech came on the phone--guess what? She had put me through to a Windows person who knew nothing about Macs. He gave me a credit and returned me to--you guessed it! The computer who didn't recognize my tone. So back to California I went. This time I had to wait about 40 minutes to be connected to the Mac tech. Basically what he did was have me remove the preferences file, tell me to rebuild the desktop, use the first aid to repair and verify, (even though I do have Norton Utilities on the machine) and get back to him if the problem wasn't fixed.

Not only was the problem not fixed but I couldn't connect to the Internet. So back on the phone. The wait this time was probably 20 minutes. Fortunately the tech was able to fix the connection problem (had to throw away something that was providing a conflict). Then I said, "Why don't we see if I can hear the Netscape radio which is why I wound up here in the first place?" And, of course, I couldn't. So he gave me credit for the call and told me to get in touch with the Real Player people. They would charge $25.00. He even gave me the phone number to call. At that point I had spent about four hours on the phone. We had things to do, places to go, people to see so I decided to put the RealPlayer phone call off--maybe today?

Update: Yes, lymphoma.

This is a true story from the WordPerfect helpline. Needless to say the helpdesk employee was fired; however, he is currently suing the WordPerfect organization for "Termination without Cause". Actual dialogue of a former Wordperfect Customer Support employee:

"Ridge Hall computer assistant; may I help you?"
"Yes, well, I'm having trouble with WordPerfect."
"What sort of trouble?"
"Well, I was just typing along, and all of a sudden the words went away."
"Went away?"
"They disappeared."
"Hmm. So what does your screen look like now?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"It's blank; it won't accept anything when I type."
"Are you still in WordPerfect, or did you get out?"
"How do I tell?"
"Can you see the C: prompt on the screen?"
"What's a sea-prompt?"
"Never mind. Can you move the cursor around on the screen?"
"There isn't any cursor: I told you, it won't accept anything I type."
"Does your monitor have a power indicator?"
"What's a monitor?"
"It's the thing with the screen on it that looks like a TV. Does it have a little light that tells you when it's on?"
"I don't know."
"Well, then look on the back of the monitor and find where the power cord goes into it. Can you see that?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Great. Follow the cord to the plug, and tell me if it's plugged into the wall."
".......Yes, it is."
"When you were behind the monitor, did you notice that there were two cables plugged into the back of it, not just one?"
"No."
"Well, there are. I need you to look back there again and find the other cable."
"....... Okay, here it is."
"Follow it for me, and tell me if it's plugged securely into the back of your computer."
"I can't reach."
"Uh huh. Well, can you see if it is?"
"No."
"Even if you maybe put your knee on something and lean way over?"
"Oh, it's not because I don't have the right angle - it's because it's dark."
"Dark?"
"Yes -the office light is off, and the only light I have is coming in from the window."
"Well, turn on the office light then."
"I can't."
"No? Why not?"
"Because there's a power outage."
"A power... A power outage? Aha! Okay, we've got it licked now. Do you still have the boxes and manuals and packing stuff your computer came in?"
"Well, yes, I keep them in the closet."
"Good. Go get them, and unplug your system and pack it up just like it was when you got it. Then take it back to the store you bought it from."
"Really? Is it that bad?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it is."
"Well, all right then, I suppose. What do I tell them?"
"Tell them you're too fucking stupid to own a computer."


According to snopes.com the dialogue is claimed to be true up to "A power... A power outage?", and the rest is what the tech support wishes he could have said.