I had just moved about a half hour from my previous residence. Before I moved, I contacted Comcast and asked them what I should do. I was moving back in with my mother who already had a comcast account. I asked if I should just cancel my account and have another box added to her account or have two accounts running out of one house. They told me to just add another box to her account. No problem, I could just give my money right to my Mom.
I asked them if I could take my cable box to the new house then give back the cable box I would no longer need. The woman on the phone told me they'd have to come set up a new box and while they were there, they'd pick up the old equipment. I thanked her, set up an appointment for a technician to come set up my new cable box/pick up the old equipment, then went about my day. NOTE - the woman needed my current address and my future address to know what account to cancel and where to send the technician.
The day comes and the technician is due to show up between 8:00am and Noon. Can I just say that I hate that shit? Honestly, are your days so hectic that you get held up for THREE HOURS?! Anyway, so comcast man comes a'knockin on my door (at about 10 of noon, after I'd been waiting for him all morning).
He looks at me like I'm already a pain in his ass.
him: You Linda?
me: No, she's my mother. I'm Jess. The one who set up this appointment.
me: ... no, Jess. Short for Jessica?
him: ... are you even 18?
Look ass clown, I'm plenty past 18. Would I have my own account if I wasn't? Besides, is it your job to ask questions and act like a dick? Cause I'm pretty sure you're just here to plug my cable box into my TV and program my remote.
So he walks into my front hallway, farts, then heads downstairs to where the TV needing service is. I followed him halfway down to make sure the lights turned on (old florescent bulbs, sometimes they don't turn on all the way), but had to high tail it back upstairs because this man was seriously making my house REEK. Now, I'm not saying I'm beyond smelling bad, but really, the room stunk for a good 15 minutes. I feared he was downstairs taking a nice healthy shit on my new pretty cable box.
A HALF HOUR later, he comes back upstairs and tells me he's done. Does it take that long? *shrugs* I guess so. So I sign the paper that says I received service and all, and he starts to leave. I call him back and tell him that he was supposed to pick up the old equipment as well. He shoots me a look that says "Lady, you're fucking kidding me." He sighs, turns around, and comes back to get the old equipment.
him: Who told you I'd pick this stuff up?
me: The woman I made this appointment with.
him: *scans old equipment*
him: I can't take this. You have to drop this off in *PA town an hour from here* I work with *PA town 5 minutes from here* If I pick this up, I'll get in trouble. You have to drop this off in *PA town an hour from here*
me: WHAT?! I got this from *PA town 30 minutes from here*
him: Sorry. Can't do anything. *leaves*
I was pretty pissed off at this point. I waited all morning for this guy to show up, fart in my house, sit on his ass in my basement for 20 minutes, then tell me I have to drive an hour to and back from this other comcast office because this woman told me I could have it picked up by this service man.
After an hour of trying to get through to comcast, it's confirmed that I have to return this equipment to the other branch, regardless of who fucked up and told me the wrong thing.
So I say, fuck it, I'm keeping it all.
Until I got the $350 bill for the equipment. I called the office flaming mad because I was tired of comcast bullshit. And, of course, this woman tells me I can return everything to the office that's 5 minutes from my house. Six months later, this shit is finally settled. Thanks Comcast!
Also, the remote that took a half hour to program doesn't work properly. I'm not about to go through 4 more months of bullshit just so I can change the TV channel from my seat.