The Wheel Fell Off the Car. Sort Of.

Right now, my life is consumed by my computer woes, which I’m sure everyone is tired of hearing about. So I’ve reimagined yesterday's conversation with tech support—imagine my laptop is a car.

Photo by Saibo, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

My phone rings. I pick it up.

Mechanic (in an excited voice): Mrs. Keller, we finally figured out what’s wrong with your car!

Me: Great. What is it?

Mechanic: Your car needs a new tire!

Me: Uh, that’s what you said the last time—and I bought a new tire. And, honestly, since the wheel has actually fallen off the car, I don’t think the tire was the problem is the first place.

Mechanic: Are you sure the new tire works? Maybe the rubber is defective.

Me: You had me test the rubber twice already. And I’ve done a tread count.

Mechanic: Oh.  (Silence follows.) You know what it is? It’s the lug nuts.

Me: We replaced the lug nuts too.

Mechanic: Right. Okay, so here’s what it really is…the transmission.

Me (wondering if unbeknownst to me I’ve become part of a Monty Python skit): What?!

Mechanic: Those transmissions are sneaky things. They are part of the engine, and it’s the engine that turns the axle that turns the tire. So I think it’s the transmission.

Me: It’s NOT the transmission—the wheel has fallen off the axle!

Mechanic: I’m not sure the wheel has actually fallen off the axle—it’s more like lying near the axle.

Me (sputtering in disbelief)

Mechanic: We’ve already looked at your wheel twice. I suppose (insert heavy, condescending sigh) I could look at it a third time.

Me: Yeah, maybe you should look at it again.

So now I’m trying to decide whether to contact the Better Business Bureau, or let my husband talk to the mechanic. 

What Does Customer Service Mean?

The summer before I started college, I worked at a satellite receiver company in customer service. While there, I learned one important lesson. Always, always apologize and take responsibility for the problem. Customers are calling because the product failed. So it's the company's fault.

The computer repair company which is servicing my laptop has not learned this lesson. Yesterday, I called to check on the status of my computer.

Me: I'm calling to check on the status of my computer.

Customer Service: It takes 24 to 48 hrs. for a diagnosis to be made.

Me (not pointing out that it was around that time): So, you'll contact me when a diagnosis is made?

Customer Service: No. The company you bought your computer from will contact you.

Me: Okay. Could you make a notation in the file or ask the techs to test the system and verify the repair before the computer is sent back?

CS: We always verify the repairs.

Me: Okay. Well, this is the second time my computer has been in for the same problem.

CS: Clearly something else went wrong with your computer after it left here.

Me: Uh, my computer has the exact same problem that it had originally.

CS: (silence)

Me: Right.

CS: Anything else I can do for you?

Me (biting back the words "I'm not sure you've actually done anything for me"): No. Thank you.

It would have been nice at some point for the customer service agent to say, "I'm sorry you're having a problem." Or even, "I'll send the techs a note to do a thorough check."

Instead, the CS reps are hostile. As if it's my fault the computer isn't working. In any case, I hope that when I get my laptop back, it works. (This time they told me it would take two to three weeks to get it back--and that's without a diagnosis of the problem. I'm beginning to feel like they're trying to punish me so I'll give up and buy a new laptop.) But if the laptop comes back after all this time and still isn't repaired, I'll be contacting the better business bureau.

Computer Repairs, Round Two

There's no normal blog post here today because my computer, which I got back from repairs on Monday night, still isn't working. (I actually wrote a funny post about it--but the computer chewed it up and spit it out.)

I called tech support yesterday, and they categorized me as a "failed repair." I tried to find out what that meant, but no one seemed to be able to explain it. Apparently, I'm waiting on a "decision" from the higher ups. Maybe they're deciding to actually fix my computer. That would be nice.

In the meantime, I'm missing everyone (readers and other bloggers).

This photo has nothing to do with my post. But it's gorgeous and it's Wednesday--we all need a moment or two of escape. Maybe it will keep me from taking a sledge hammer to my computer. This photo is from Wikimedia Commons, and it's their Picture of the Day. The photographer is Arcalino.

Computer Repair: What I'm Doing for the Next Two Months

My computer is fixed and on the way home. Normally, this would be a good thing. It’s not.

The techno-loser at the under-warranty-repair-place called me:  Miz Keller, it turns out that it’s not your motherboard. You have a corrupt operating system.

Me: Oh.

Techno-loser-repair-person: So we need your permission to wipe your computer.

Me: Oh, right. (Yes, I’m really clever.)  I made an image of my computer on an external hard, so I guess that will be okay. (I ignore niggling anxiety that tells me I’m missing something.)

Techno-loser (who no doubt knows what I’m missing): So we can wipe it?

Me: Uh, yes.

Techno-person: Thanks. (hangs up)

Niggling anxiety smacks me in the face with the truth of the situation.

I email techno-daughter at work. “My computer has a corrupt OS. They’re doing a wipe. I’m now in serious kim chee, right? Because when I restore the image, I’ll be restoring the corrupt OS, right?”

Techno-daughter emails me back while waiting for the work computers to compile(?) her new math equations so the work computers can reach programming nirvana: “Yes.”

Me: ACK!

Clearly, my scream was quite loud. Techno-daughter emails. “Don’t panic.” (Too, too late) “Just make recovery disks of the OS when the computer arrives. Then load the image. Then save every file you want to the external hard drive or Dropbox. Then, do a system wipe and recovery. Then, reload saved files.  No big deal.”

Me: Seriously. No big deal. If you don’t hear from me in the next two months, it’s because I’m still in the process of fixing my computer.