I don’t really ever play video games. I have an xbox 360, but it only gets my attention for about 45 minutes once ever couple months. Most people would probably call that a good thing. Well, in this case it actually turned out to be the problem.
See, I signed up for xbox Live about six months ago. (In case you’ve been under a rock for the past three years, xbox Live is the online is the online multiplayer subscription service offered by Microsoft). The subscription costs about eight bucks a month. A comparatively small sum. I signed up for the service thinking that I might play online with friends. This never happened.
Several months went by. I didn’t use the service. Instead the system collected dust. At one time I attempted to cancel the service, but I couldn’t find a way to do so in the xbox menu. So, I gave up, rationalizing the purchase by thinking perhaps I’ll decide to play in the future. This of course never happened.
Fast foreword to today.
I was going through some general lifestyle cleanup. Taking care of old papers, cleaning out drawers and cabinets. And, coming upon the xbox, cancelling an unused expenditure.
So, I called Microsoft to cancel the account. They asked for the usual information. Name, email, username, last four digits of the credit card used for billing. I gladly gave them all of these, but they couldn’t get into my account. It would seem that somehow I didn’t have the credit card anymore.
I became increasingly frustrated with the billing representative as she basically said, “If you can’t give us those numbers, we can’t cancel the account”. I was pretty steamed. So I asked for her supervisor. Which, in fact, just proved to be a reboot to the whole process. Eventually, I let her have it. All of my frustration with the corporate system (and likely pent up rage against Microsoft over the years) spilled out at this poor woman on the phone.
I felt justified in my lashing out. At least until I caught a subtle tone in the woman’s voice. Something like, “I really am trying as hard as I can here and I’m frustrated too, just stop yelling at me”. I know, it’s impressive that I could pick that all out of a tone. But it’s the truth it was all there. Suddenly, I felt pretty bad.
It also happened to be at this moment that the woman came across an account that was almost exactly like mine, except missing a letter. She asked what password I signed up with. When I confirmed it she was able to see all of my information.
To my horror, I discovered that I had given her none of the right information in order to look up my account. Why? Because when I signed up months ago, I used false information. Not even a real address. The problems in the billing department couldn’t have possibly been more clearly my fault. Once this was done, she sped through the cancellation process. She asked if I needed anything else, then jumped quickly into a closing script that concluded with a the phone hanging up.
I wanted to apologize. I wanted to explain my frustration and tell her that it was wrong of me to have lost my temper with her.
But it ended too quickly and I didn’t get a chance to say it.
It’s too late now to express my regret. But it was indeed a shot in the arm from my nemesis in the software world. Humility is a bitter pill—with any luck I won’t need to take it for something like this again!