I’ve been paying the bill on his cell phone, and it rankles to do that when it’s not in use. So I gave up on everyone who promised to help, and went and spent $20 on a recharger. I forced myself to read the book, fighting nausea and crying spells the whole way. I picked up the charged phone and pushed the first button and discovered–he had a lockout code on it. He has four voicemail messages, and I can’t get them. Not only that, but if I use the phone, and someone leaves me a message, I can’t get that. The phone also records information on the last 29 calls in or out. And I can’t get it.
And I want it. I want to know if/when that dumbass case manager EVER called him, before the day it was too late. Because the anger isn’t going away. I want someone to pay, and I’m thinking very seriously about getting a lawyer and having a shot at sticking it to every one of those lazy, apathetic, lying SOBs.
So, silly me, I called the customer service number. And spent HALF AN HOUR trying to get past the voicemail system to a living being, because trying to gather information to see if you should sue someone in the death of your husband isn’t on the Frequently Asked Questions list.
I tried to get a human through Technical Assistance, I tried to get a human at The Cricket Store, I tried to get a human through Billing Assistance, through “If You are a New Customer,” through Troubleshooting Handset Problems and Troubleshooting Service Problems…I don’t even remember how I finally did get a human. But she said to take the phone to the nearest Cricket store, and they could flash the code, without losing the info I need.
It’s a damn shame that something so simple reduced me to tears. But if you’ve been following this blog, you know how rare it is for me to run into someone who’s even competent in their job, let alone helpful. So thanks, Rolinda. You didn’t even freak out when I cried.