That’s Vonage up my nose

July 14, 2008

It’s no secret that I hate phones. Hate hate. Phones. Hate.

Part of it has to do with the inconvenience of being in the middle of a movie or a meal or a thought and having to answer the phone. But another part of it has to do with thinking phone companies are sleazy good-for-nothings dedicated to nickle-and-diming their customers into an infuriated pauper’s grave. But oh, Vonage, I had hoped you would be different. I really did.

The first clue I had that something was amiss was when our phone stopped working for no apparent reason a few months ago. I tried out everything in the customer support knowledge base to get it to work. I tried a few things not in the FAQ but I figured I would be asked if I called technical support. And then I filled out a very long query form on the web site listing make, model, and serial number of the equipment, every behavior being exhibited, what lights were on or off, every test I made, and then re-iterated that I had in fact been to the customer support knowledge base and tried everything there.

A day or so later I got a response from Vonage with a helpful link to the knowledge base article I had previously tried.

Seethe. Vonage. Hate.

I explained that I had tried all that, to no avail. I also had to resupply serial numbers and model numbers and what lights were blinking and what lights weren’t, possibly in another round of email messages but I honestly don’t remember because my mind was fogged by spite and loathing.

Vonage’s customer support then told me there was a known issue with the power adapter for my phone and they would send me another one.

Days go by, and I forget. But mostly because we don’t use that phone but also because I frankly prefer a broken phone to an operational one. Nine days later I decide I really need to hassle them, and it turns out that they haven’t shipped the item because I neglected to respond to their most recent request for a shipping address. Silly me. I thought the fact that it was a) still my billing address and b) I confirmed my billing address was still current.

Snarl. Hate. Vonage. Seethe. Wait.

The power supply comes and that fixes the phone. And that was the January that was. But we really don’t use the service except to get pestered by telemarketers and get calls from collection agencies sure “Cheryl” owns this line. So I decided to cancel it. The fact that the phone has stopped working (again) helped me make this decision.

I can’t cancel online; for my security — they claim — they have to voice-verify a cancellation request. They will do every freaking thing else — address change, credit card change, or upgrade my service — through the web interface. But they actually have to talk to me in order to cancel the account.

I am put on hold twice. The Customer Service Rep who is named “Jack” but does not have the accent to match tries to sell me a lower-priced service that is not available through the web site. Failing that he finally tells me that I have actually agreed to a two-year contract (news to me) and it will cost me $120 to cancel. In two months — after a year’s service has gone by — that will be dropped to $40. Of course, it will take me another 40 minutes on the phone to cancel the service then, too. Remember: I hate phones. Given the choice between talking on the phone and rubbing poison ivy on my face I’d have to think about it.

So I tell him I’m surprised I have a contract, I thought I’d selected a plan without one but I will check to make sure. He says “you can find that on the web site” and I say “where?” and he says “the terms of service.” So it’s not like I got told up front, no, I got burned by the EULA.

So I’ll keep the non-functioning phone for two more months and continue to forward the telemarketing calls and collection agents looking for Cheryl to voice mail while my friends and family send me email.

Then I will call and cancel and pay the $40. And I will never, never, ever recommend Vonage. I will refuse to recommend Vonage. I will in fact recommend poison ivy instead, and I will not even have to think about that.

Posted in Unpersuasive Marketing