THANK YOU FOR CALLING GLOBELINES
Five days ago since I last browsed the internet with flawlessly fast speed and unlimited access to almost every type of website. Now, five days in a row, myglobe.com.ph, plus the forever living Yahoo!, is the only website that I could visit in my danged multi-operating system computer that runs 800 mHz with a broadband speed of 4 kilobytes per second. I wanna faint.
*UPDATE* - Oh great… thanks to Juice and Rob, I am finally informed about that hemorrhagic, abominable inanakanangpakingshyet earthquake in Southern Taiwan that caused haywire in our internet connection. And fiascoed IDD? GAWD! THAT WAS F*CKING TERRIBLE! HOW CAN WE RECEIVE OUR REMITTANCE TODAY? GRAARGH!
(My regular visitors might be aware that) I am fond of intimidating people, though at times I’d rather refrain looking like one because of my continuous attempt to have some fashion overhaul. Of course, I intimidate people for a purpose… for a cause… occasionally, to speed things up.
The very last time I waited long enough was 18 hours–and it’s for a swimming spree. I don’t know how blind I was when I braced my batchmate’s house in Silang, Cavite to have waited in such a splendid amount of time. Now I’m done with it.
I was uber punctual years before I joined the student publication, though sometimes I reach our rendezvous 5 minutes later. The only thing that kept me waiting is someone that would accompany me waiting. If I’m alone, I always think about the kamote (sweet potato) sprouts to plant in my backyard. Kamote sprouts… holy cow.
I know the feeling of someone who have prepared so much for an appointment, especially in early meetings, compromising other priorities such as late-night TV viewing (no. 1 priority other than doing assignments) and other recreations just to sleep early for the rooster wake-up. Only to discover that on your next precious day you find yourself savoring free facial makeup from the particulates suspended in the air. Filipino time.
Filipinos don’t want to wait for others, so they rather see others wait for them by intentionally slowing their pace of movement in taking a shower, dressing up, wearing the stupid pink blush-on powders and all–the main rationale of this internationally-acclaimed Pinoy tardiness. They intentionally keep others waiting, to the point that these people would look like instant celebrities even if their faces don’t qualify to be one. And then they will apologize, in a tone like you’ve only waited for about 5 minutes simultaneously with the cake you’ve dropped on the floor (which, they claim, is still safe to eat).
So I started patronizing the custom to be more Filipino. I’ve suffered enough. I’ve longed enough to bear with all their excuses. If we agree to meet at 7:00, expect them to come at 8:30. Which, in fact, always happens. I envy Lea Salonga. When they are expected to come at 9 am, everyone comes thirty minutes earlier, then they start their production at exactly 9. The Japanese run on their satellite-subscribed clocks. If it’s rush hour, it really is rush hour. Here in the Philippines, rush hour is when you forgot to bring your attaché case at home in the middle of a rowdy traffic.
But for a mandatory and obligatory paid service like my internet connection? No c’est la vie’s for me.
Whenever we have connection problems, I always call our service provider’s customer service hotline 171-2310. 2310, note that. Then you’ll hear Christian Bautista or Josh Groban singing their all time hits, which is kinda nice, but will pull your ears off when listening for a long time. Then it’ll take you forever waiting for the customer service representative to accommodate you.
And finally…
(December 24, 2006)
Globe: Welcome to Globelines Technical Support Service, may I help you?
Neil: I didn’t listen to your recorded advisory to ask you about this. What the hell is happening to our broadband connection?
Globe: (swallows, getting a grip for some English twang). Well sir, can I ask your name first?
Neil: (hysterically provocative) I’ll give you my mom’s name instead since she owns this account. (insert mommy here)
Globe: (cleans throat). Uhmm, ah eh… can I get your internet phone number?
Neil: I gave you my mother’s name already. Ok, fine, wait just a minute.
(hangs phone to get our monthly bill)
Neil: (insert number here).
Globe: (typing, and typing, just to prolong and divert the conversation). Okay sir, can I confirm that you live in Cavite area.
Neil: Obviously, yes.
Globe: Well, for now, your account is subjected to network restoration that’s why you are having difficulties in connecting to your broadband connection.
Neil: I think the recorder said that already.
Globe: (silence, pondering about my previous statement.)
Neil: Approximately how long is this so-called ‘network restoration’?
Globe: As soon as possible, sir…
Neil: How long is this soon as possible?
Globe: Sir, you just wait for the connection to resume, sir.
Neil: (mild angry tone, without breathing) For 5 days straight?! I think that’s unfair for us your customers to pay 15 hundred bucks for an internet connection that stops once in a while—you know, we are doing all our documents for the following year, and then you give us this network restoration that’s taking 48 years to finish? How long should we wait? And we still have to pay 1500 for the bill on the 29th? That’s totally unfair, ma’am.
Globe: Sir, we cannot do anything about your problem for now (with a placating tone). But I promise you that your account will be on the priority list to regain internet access (with typing sounds) as soon as our network restoration is completed.
Neil: (silence)
Globe: Umm, sir, can I ask your name first?
Neil: Neil. Neil Bernardo.
Globe: Okay sir neil, you’ll be connected in the next few hours after this phone call.
Neil: Okay. Thanks.
Globe: (with a somewhat mild breath) Thank you for calling Globelines.
(Call dropped.)
My point? If you pay a thousand bucks for a broadband connection that stops once every five minutes, dial the Tagalog customer service hotline and speak with all your greatest English twang in a professional, but less procrastinating, tone.
And don’t accept c’est la vie, no matter what. Take advantage of the semi-socialite caste system.
