for my new “editor”. How lucky am I? I posted to an Alpine message board that I was looking for someone to help me with my blog, and a talented musician and writer living in Austin stepped in. Cindy Symington (“my little life“) is just what the doctor ordered. If you think this blog is long, you should have seen it before Cindy worked her magic! _________________________________________________________
My dad’s birthday is Oct. 15th, one of our busiest weeks at the studio. Although I had been trying to get away to drive the 8 hrs to celebrate with him, one thing after the other kept me at home. But something just hit me this day, and I knew I needed to go. I hurriedly threw a few things in a laundry basket, jumped in my Scion, and sped out of town. When I pulled into my dad’s driveway about 9:30 that night, I couldn’t keep my eyes open even long enough to indulge myself in a little Jon Stewart.
The next morning as we chatted over Cheerios, the lights suddenly went out. We looked up to see a maintenance worker in one of those sky-tubs mounted on a pickup truck cutting the electric cable coming to the house. My dad jokingly remarked “I hope he’s not cutting my electricity off” as he put on his jacket to go see what was up.
When he came back in about five minutes later, a little pale but calm, he told me “They said I have an illegal tap.” Knowing that was not the case, I laughed and said, “No, really.” He said “Really.” Really?! . As he calmly sat back down to finish his cereal. I dropped my spoon and ran out to the street to catch the man in the truck. As luck would have it, he was gone.
It happened that this particular morning was so dark and cloudy we had to take the shoebox that holds my dad’s receipts outside to see. The wind was chilly, so we found refuge in my car until he found an old TXU (Texas Utilities) bill. Fortunately, I had my cell phone since the phones in the house required electricity. Unfortunately, my phone was already low on battery power and I had left my car charger back in Alpine. After 10 minutes dealing with the frustration that plagues all users of automated phone systems, a TXU operator took my info and politely told me we didn’t have a power outage. Grrrr. Back to “Start” I go.
So after more waiting and routing and waiting, I learn that they can’t find my dad’s account at all – not even by the account number. Exasperated, I was routed to supervisor Shelly #79155, one of those people who should never ever ever be in charge of shoe-tying much less a customer service department!
As I tried to deal with this poor excuse for a supervisor, I couldn’t help but be glad I listened to the voice in my head telling me to drop everything and head to Fort Worth. My dad’s recent bypass surgery had left him more vulnerable than usual, and TXU had left him without heat or lights, phone or refrigeratorI
Beside the fact that Shelly was the poorest excuse for a customer service rep I have ever run into (how the heck did she get into this position of power in which we relishes talking down to folks who need electricity?!), she seemed to have trouble following the conversation at all. After insisting that my dad’s account number was invalid (and my dad and I knowing it’s the same account he had used in the whole 39 yrs living in the same house), finally she seemed delighted to be able to announce, “Your account was closed on Oct. 6th for lack of payment.”
“WHAAAA?!?!”
A little backstory is probably in order here. The street name on my dad’s bill has been wrong ever since a failed attempt to change the name. Neighbors had protested and managed to almost save the name, compromising with a slight variation. Because the post office knew the drill and always delivered the bills, my dad gave up trying to change it after several years. He never ever missed a payment and made sure that the account number was always correct.
We could only try to piece together the trail of errors that led to the confusion, but we guess that sometime during his heart bypass ordeal and the recovery period, the post office stopped delivering the bill (A new mailman? New policy? Who knows?) Though I was there to help him during this period, I didn’t even realize the missing electric bill.
I pride myself on my patience. But after pointing out to Shelly #79155 that my dad had never once missed a payment and that this should have been a red flag, she murmured something about how they don’t make “courtesy” calls.
That’s when the ridiculousness of the scenario hit me. I shook my head and I started laughing. Thank the goddess that divine intervention had placed me there as a barrier between my dad and Shelly #79155. In a flash of clarity I remembered gratitude, very grateful I was there, grateful my dad had the means to check into the La Quinta up the street, and grateful that I still had my sanity after dealing with Shelly who, instead of showing my dad respect for being a customer for almost 40 years, was treating him like his business meant absolutely nothing to TXU.
I asked Shelly to transfer me to her supervisor, but after being on hold again for what seemed like forever and my battery running low, I hung up and started all over again. Did Shelly put me on hold for Neverland?
Desperately low on battery power, I started over. After 2 or 3 transfers up the supervisor ladder, I found a woman named Mary who confirmed that TXU doesn’t call people before shutting off service, doesn’t put a warning on the door of a house, but does mail a disconnect notice (even when addressed wrong). AND that my dad’s account number had changed, that the correct street couldn’t be located, yada yada …. I felt like some swirly dark funnel from the sky had sucked us right into that Black Hole we hear so much about.
And that black hole would not have power back until the following week at best.
When Mary said she understood we were a “little” disappointed, my dad and I laughed so hard we had tears rolling down our eyes. I could hear the amusement in Mary’s voice when she said she was sorry, but that “everywhere you go, you have policies, and we have to follow those policies.”.
But at least Mary was a human. I let out a breath and said my dad has nowhere else to go, so we will need to check into a hotel. That’s when she said “Hotel?” I said, “Yes, hotel … it’s cold and dark inside the house, so we have to go somewhere!”
Aha! The word “hotel” had apparently triggered a procedure in TXU’s policy protocol! She’d talk to her supervisor to see what they could do, that they have contracts with local hotels, and she would call me back within 20 minutes. Huh?? After being on the phone for 2 hours, my dad and I were stunned to hear that one word would have changed everything. We just looked at each other and started laughing once again.
And within that time limit, we received a phone call, not from Mary, but from yet another rep named Deena, who said they’d have the power back on before the end of the day.
That should be the end of the story, but when asking for the address where to send the contractor, we saw the tunnel to the Black Hole forming on the horizon, and a cracking noise emit from the earth below.
“There is no such street address in my computer.”
