I just finished a long conversation with Preeti* who, for half an hour, fielded my requests to cancel my Vodafone subscription.
Ah, Preeti, you were perfect: speaking slowly and clearly, yet somehow soothingly, filling every syllable (which was enunciated CRISPLY) with emphasis and sincerity, never losing control.
Preeti seemed genuinely interested to hear what I had to say. SHE CARED.
I’ve been with Vodafone, the world’s second largest telecommunications provider, for a number of years now. Their bills can be hefty, their service non-existant, and yet, I remain loyal.
“Our network is expanding!” “Get ready to fly as well roll out our new 4G service!” “We cover a lot of places!” Like the wife of an unfaithful husband who makes big promises about improving, but never delivers, I am left disappointed.
At one point in our conversation, Preeti actually admitted that she did understand where I was coming from, that if she were the consumer she would consider her options too. Then she said something to this effect, “So…as a token of our appreciation, I will take 15% of your next bill, (that’s 6 dollars) and thank you for staying with Vodafone.”
My beef is not with Vodafone, it is with myself. I did everything the online forums told me (yes, there are online forums just about leaving Vodafone.) Call the tech support team, do what they tell you, “give them the courtesy” of knowing that the problem is with their network and not with your phone, insist, politely but insistently on a cancellation, do not shout.
And yet, here we are, doing, perhaps, the only thing sadder then not cancelling your Vodafone subscription: blogging about it.
I was so close! She offered me the discount, she said “I know that you’re being honest…that you are not joking about it” Preeti! Will you not show me mercy! Will you not let me off the hook!
What made me stay? Was it the fear of the unknown, a “better the devil you know” situation where the prospect of a new company whose ways were unknown to me were more frightening than my own crappy tele-spouse? Was it my inability to hurt Preeti? If I said NO she might be sad, and she was so nice, so we couldn’t have that. Was it my sense that I was doing something wrong, not finishing out the rest of my five month contract in full, still neglecting to pay my current Vodafone bills, which even now, flash before me like devils in the night?
If I had the balls Telstra would, even now, be meeting my needs. Not taking me for granted. Cooking dinner for me…oh, no, wait, that’s probably a wife.
So to my fellow pushovers, I say: There is no prize in staying with your voda-fail. It is not wrong to leave, they will be fine without you, 50 000 people have done it before (I read that on a Vodafone forum) Trust your gut, and CUT IT OFF! Don’t be like me, sad, lonely, and left only with the naive hopes of what could have been. All I wanted was to check my Facebook feed on the bus! PREETI! Can you not even offer me this? Keep your discount!
My name is Daniel, and I decided to stay with Vodafone.
*Hi Vodafone, this was totally funny right? HA HA! PLEASE DON’T SUE
*Her name was not Preeti