The Nightmare That Is Sprint

I am a jilted lover as I am secretly mourning my Note 5. I have ALWAYS had a Samsung phone and been in love with every feature. It was time for an upgrade and Lord knows I can’t upgrade to a Note 7 thanks to the stupid recall. I’m really pissed about that by the way. How do you take your flagship phone, the phone that Apple considers valid competition and fuck it up? Nah, fuck it up twice? I mean, who does that? If you have been living under a rock, this article is a quick read on the lengths Galaxy Note 7 owners must take when returning their phone: Samsung Deploys Fire Proof Box

Begrudgingly I realized that if I wanted the same screen size and similar capabilities I was going to have to go with Apple 6. The 7’s are on backorder for all of eternity at Sprint so not even going to go there. At least Sprint’s marketing and store operations departments were all over this Samsung crisis as I was greeted with in store marketing of 2 Note 7’s in all their glory. It was like a slap in the face. I look down and see a tiny RECALL notice next to the still displayed, brand new Note 7’s. Yes…all over it Sprint.

Sprint is like the abusive husband and I am the wife that has given up and comes back, despite knowing it’s not good for me. This week has been no exception and can probably be labeled as one of the top 10 epic fails in customer service.

Below is the timeline of how I have practically moved in to Sprint.

11:55/Sunday- My oldest-P and I get to Sprint before they open. After about 45 minutes my son and I decide on our phones and we move to the soul sucking process of signing forms and reviewing my plan. My card is swiped 3 times, my husband’s card once only to be told something is wrong with their system and/or my account. I check my bank balance since they swiped several times and despite something being wrong with their internal system, my system is just fine. So fine in fact, my card was charged 3 times. I am immediately told they will refund this money and to come back later….oh and to bring cash since this is 1967.

Fuming and P crying, we exit and attend 2 soccer games 45 minutes away. We rush to a Sprint store between games and like a 5 star restaurant we are told the wait is going to be an hour. Again, fuming and crying.

5:45/Monday- I roll into Sprint, optimistic my son and I will be getting our new phones. I am the 3rd one in line and after a 15 minute wait approach the sales clerk. Of course the guy that was helping me and knew what was going on opted to take his break during the time I would be in there. How convenient. After 5 minutes the clerk can’t figure out the new plan he is putting me on and goes into the back to retrieve breaking clerk whom we will call Corkie. At this point I throw the 2 phones at him with a $20 bill and said I will be back after I take my youngest-C to be tested for a concussion.

7:15/Monday- I return with P & C in tow to Corkie, holding the unopened IPhone boxes, unopened case boxes and my $20 bill sandwiched in between. There are no words for what is going on inside my body right now as I am guessing it is akin to the chemical reactions that occur in The Hulk before turning green, roaring and ripping his shirt off. Parker is cupping his mouth and quietly crying. My guess is because he will have to go another day, telling his friends he doesn’t have an IPhone thus making his friends question his honesty and coolness.

“Corkie, this is unacceptable. I have spent 3 hours trying to get my phone. This shouldn’t be this hard,”I said sternly.

“I know. I put another ticket in,” he said referring to a problem ticket that will take his IT department 2 weeks to figure out.

“You see this?” I said nodding to my oldest who was crying like a school girl. “You see this? This is what I have to deal with because this can’t be figured out!”

“I’m doing the best I can,” Corkie said through gritted teeth. Obviously he doesn’t handle complaints well. By then, I knew I would not be getting anywhere and it was time to move on. 

7:30/ Monday- We arrive at the Sprint store in the ghetto. Want to know if your in the ghetto? If there is a Sprint store next to a payday store next to a Popeyes… your in the ghetto. Long story short, our prayers are answered. Not only do they figure out what Corkie could not, they have our phones. Sure we are there 40 minutes after close but we have our phones. 

8:00/ Tuesday- had to go back to Ghetto to transfer pictures. What normally takes 20 minutes took them 1.5 hours as I had 1,100 pictures to transfer….oops. I couldn’t tell them that half of them were for my blog. 

I’ll be honest, I’m not sold on Apple. I need to really find some cool features and find easier ways to use this thing or I’m turning it back in. I miss my Note, I really do…sigh…