New iPhone broke?
By G. Romero Wendorf
I’ve been waiting for a new iPhone 6 now for seven months. Now that I’ve finall gotten one, I want to send it back and get a full re-fund and go back to using my old one. The old one, the 5, albeit smaller, was apparently better.
I wasn’t willing to pay the full price for the phone, approximately $950, so I had to wait for my cell contract with AT&T to expire in July, before I could get one for half price.
As part of my job, I interview people on the new one, and it’s a constant game of – Hello? Hello? Apparently, the antenna on the new one may be bad. But getting any help from my phone provider, AT&T, from which I bought it, is, well, no help whatsoever. In fact, talking to their company reps the other day made me so mad, I wanted to throw the phone to the ground and stomp it into pieces, but the smarter side of my brain (granted, it’s minute) reminded me – “Fool, if you break it into pieces, even though it will provide you with a momentary feeling of satisfaction, you’ll never be able to return it.”
Both phones – the iPhone 5 and 6 (including the 6 plus) -- were made in commie-controlled China, of course, and with a record 93 million Americans now unemployed, Apple’s decision to send the manufacturing work overseas is nearly indefensible.
Then, there’s the “customer service” guy with AT&T I spoke to yesterday (Aug. 10), trying to get a refund -- he works in India, which is just another example of why so many Americans are out of work. Apparently, the major corporations based in the U.S. would rather offshore manufacturing jobs to cheap-labor countries so they can move up from the Gulfstream IV to a V sooner rather than later. And the pennies add up. In India, for example, the minimum wage is .31 per hour. In China, it’s $1.22 per hour. In Mexico, it’s .62 per hour, which is, no doubt, why Ford trashed its recent plans to build its new multi-billion-dollar manufacturing plant in Tennessee and headed instead, south of the border.
The loyalty American companies have for the American worker is indeed heart-warming.
So now, with a new iPhone 6 plus in hand, I soon discover that it doesn’t work right, so I want a full refund. I’ll go back to using my old one, the 5, which really gave me no problems during the two or so years I used it. But to get a refund, even though I’ve only had the new one for approximately two weeks, ah, therein lies the problem.
The first guy I spoke to at AT&T this week was a nice guy, based in the U.S. By the way, all of these customer-service calls are recorded, so I always make it a point to end these conversations with this message – “Thank you, (insert name of company) for keeping these jobs in the U.S. Because if you continue to do so, instead of off-shoring them to India, China, Mexico, Americans might actually have a job and be able to afford your product.”
In the old days, maybe four years ago, the customer service people wouldn’t say a word when I ended the call with my short speech. But things have changed. Now, every time I give my standard speech at the end of the customer-service call – thank you for keeping these jobs in the U.S. -- the people based state-side actually thank me for saying so, and they usually add, “I agree,” knowing they too are being recorded. I guess it’s got to the point, where they just don’t care if management listens to the phone call and knows they weighed in with their opinion. With 93 million Americans unemployed, I guess more and more of them still employed are speaking out – keep Americans employed whenever possible.
So the customer-service guy with AT&T takes up about 20 minutes of my time, saying it may be the antenna on the phone that’s the problem.
“So I have to return it to the AT&T store?” I ask him.“No,” he says, “you have to take it to an Apple store.”
Which could be a problem, because as far as I know, Apple doesn’t have a store in the RGV. And I’m not all that gung-ho to drive to an Apple store in San Antonio just to return a phone.
So the AT&T guy tells me he’ll have to transfer me to the company’s Premier Center. Maybe they can help.
Several minutes lapse.
“Hello.”
Oh, no, this guy’s in India.
I tell him I want to return my phone and get a refund.
“Let me look up your account and see how much refund I can give you,” he says.
Uh, how about 100 percent?
“Let me see,” he says. I have to really listen to what he’s saying because his Indian accent is so strong.
I literally spend 30 minutes on the phone with the guy, before he tells me that he can’t help me, he now needs to send me to another AT&T division.
“So let me get this straight,” I ask him, still considering dropping my worthless iPhone 6 plus to my kitchen tile floor and stomping it into pieces, “I’ve just spent 30 minutes on the phone with you before you tell me that you can’t help. Now you’re going to send me to another AT&T division, where I’ll spend another 30 minutes on the phone before I’m told that they can’t help me either?”
With this sort of scenario, I may well be on the phone past midnight.
“I am sorry, sir,” he says.
“By the way,” I ask, “where are you based?”
“I am sorry, sir, but we are not allowed to give out that information.”
“But are you based in the U.S.?” I know he’s not, but want him to admit it.
“I am sorry, sir, but we are not allowed to give out that information.”
I might as well be talking to an automaton.
“Okay, look,” I tell him, “when you connect me with someone, I want to talk to someone in the U.S.”
Most people don’t know this, but U.S. customers still have the right to demand they speak to someone based here. Provided, of course, the company to which you’re talking still employs someone based in the U.S. Obviously, AT&T still has a few. No doubt as I write this, however, the company’s corporate chieftains in New York are plotting how to move all the jobs overseas, or to Mexico, but just haven’t yet figured out a way.
“Okay,” sir, “the Indian guy tells me, “hang on for just a moment.”“And by the way,” I tell him, “I don’t blame you. In fact, I’m happy for you that you have a job.”
As opposed to the 93 million unemployed Americans who do not.
“Thank you for that, sir,” he says.
“No, seriously,” I say, “I’m happy for you. I have nothing against you. The people who drive me crazy are the greedy capitalistic pigs who run AT&T who are cutting the throats of American workers by sending American manufacturing jobs to cheap-labor markets such as your own.
Of course, he isn’t going to comment on that.
“Let me transfer you, sir,” he says, “to the business department, and they can help you.”
After waiting on hold for 15 minutes, I simply hung up.
To the people who run AT&T and Apple, I have a message for you. I just can’t print it in this newspaper. Too much profanity.
So when I hear all of these people running for president talking about job creation, I want to tell them, why don’t you start with AT&T and Apple?
In fact, I might even try to call their respective campaign office, but my phone isn’t working.