Earlier today I canceled my dad-in-law's Comcast service. I took over the boxes and modem over to the service center. JoDee wanted to stay in the car but once I went in there I told her she needed to come inside.
Inside was a blend of (I shit thee not) DMV and comedic-Siberian desperation. At the entrance was one of those "take a number" dispensers. Several rows of chairs were arranged in semi-neat rows, each facing ESPN (on Xfinity, of course). Several posters lined the wall extolling the virtues of the republic, er.. rather of owning Comcastic service.
About the only smiles there were the knowing smiles of the folks behind the counter. Oh, and me in finding the absolute humor in it all.
A lady came around after a few minutes to ask if there was something we could handle quickly; something like dropping off equipment. I said I was returning a box-full of equipment. She directed me to, I-shit-thee-not-again, a library-type book-return chute where converter boxes could be shoved through. And shove through I did, including all of the cables.
We'll see in they manage to untangle that mess and give us credit for returning the equipment. I was hoping I could actually hand it to a person so they could tick off the right boxes but it seems even Comcast couldn't give a shit about their equipment and customer experience.
And somewhere in that sad little waiting room an accordion played mournful tunes from a better time. At least in my mind.