To Whom it May Concern:

I am writing, once again, to express my continued dissatisfaction with Cox’s customer service lately.

I have been a Cox customer for many years and have never had any problems. In early September, I contacted your company about upgrading my services to include internet, phone, and HD services. I have addressed these issues in detail previously, so you can look up those files if you would like more specifics, but the brief version is that it took me over a month to get anyone in your company to CALL ME BACK about the problems that were holding up my installation. That delay was not to fix the problem, it was just getting someone–anyone– to return a phone call. My favorite of all of these calls was the one where the “customer loyalty” person assured me REPEATEDLY that she would call me back after further investigation–even though no one else had–because it was her responsibility (Note: she did not call me back).

When my new HD service was installed, I found that I cannot receive all of the HD channels as a customer with a receiver because of bandwidth limitations on the CableCards. Oddly, none of my friends have this issue with their CableCards, and certainly I would have liked to have known that prior to installation.

About a week and a half after installation, I received a notice from Cox informing me that many of the channels I currently receive will no longer be available to me, starting in December. Yes, I can get a receiver from you, but then I will not be able to use my HD TiVo. No, I do not want your knockoff HD DVR. I am loyal to TiVo for a reason (not the least of which is the stellar customer service experiences I have had with them). You cannot tell me that you were not aware of this upcoming programming change when I ordered my services, so springing it on me afterward is quite the bait-and-switch.

Then about a week later, I received a notice from Cox letting me know that by choosing a package deal, I am committing to a year of service. That certainly would have been nice to know ahead of time. Oh, but Cox was certainly generous and let me know that I could cancel the package within three days of activation without penalty. Had I received this sooner than two weeks after activation, that might have been beneficial.

Additionally, I was overcharged for my installation services. I contacted billing and nearly a week later they finally replied and informed me that it would be changed on my account. As far as I can tell, it has not been, but I have altered my payment to reflect the difference anyway.

It is too late for me to return my HD TiVo, cancel my TiVo subscription, or cancel my Cox subscription without having to pay huge amounts of money because your people took so long getting back to me, getting my services installed, and informing me about changes to these services. At this point, I am stuck with Cox. And believe me, I am absolutely stuck and I hate every second of it, which is a shame since the actual cable/phone/internet work very nicely. If I had any other options whatsoever, I would be dropping your company immediately. Since I am unable to do that, however, you can rest assured that I will be telling everyone I know about your abhorrent customer service and my experiences, and that when October 13, 2009 rolls around, I will be using a new phone/internet/TV provider.

Sincerely,
Mel

Game Seven of the ALCS was a weird experience, to say the least. Erin and Danielle were pretty damn gracious about conceding the series pretty early, whereas late into the game I was still arguing that the Rays were going to lose. And unlike them, I was imagining that I was going to be pretty damn bitter and cranky about it for weeks. And then, unbelievably enough, the Rays actually WON and I was able to feel very sympathetic about their pain. Trying not to come across as gloating is MUCH more fun than trying not to irrationally yell at people for things over which they have no control.

Let me tell you how gracious Danielle was. The next morning, when I was in the most flaily of my excitement, and had started saying I might fly to Florida for the WS Game Two, she did not say, “That is a ridiculous idea.” No, she said, “Maybe I’ll come.” (I believe my reaction was pretty much stunned disbelief. IN A GOOD WAY.)

And so, that is how we found ourselves headed to Florida three days after the Rays won the Pennant. Like LUNATICS.

I am not really the spur-of-the-moment trip type. I am (and this is a vast, VAST understatement) the plan-a-trip-six-months-ahead-of-time-in-excrutiating-detail-including-spreadsheets-itineraries-and-maps type of girl. So planning a trip three days ahead of time was crazy enough, but I bought my plane tickets before I even had tickets to the game. (At that point I figured once I was there, I was DAMN WELL going to the game, if I had to commit some sort of crime to do so. (I did not.))

We arrived in beautiful sunny Florida Thursday morning. (Please note that even though Danielle is a Red Sox fan first and a Rays fan much more casually, she still did not even complain about having a flight at 6 am. THAT is how awesome her enthusiasm for going to the World Series was.) Driving to the hotel from the airport was ten kinds of awesome, because on every billboard between Tampa and downtown St. Pete, there were messages of cheer and encouragement for the Rays.

With vast days hours minutes of free time ahead of us, and an overcast sky of doom (seriously, WTH, Florida? If I wanted days of nonstop clouds and dreariness, I would live in Virginia.), real beach-going was out of the question. However, I was in Florida and near the beach, so by God I was going to put my feet in the water and walk through the sand, even if I was cold and wet while I did it. (A sure sign I have moved from “Floridian” to “tourist.”)

On our way past the pirate to Treasure Island, we stopped at The Floridian, where I had a yummy Cuban sandwich. I persist in trying to find good Cuban sandwiches up here, which is kind of like trying to find good sweet tea in New Jersey. My only complaint was the addition of salami, which I do not believe in. It is unnatural.

Many, many hours before the game started, we drove past my high school and headed on over to the Heritage Hotel (where I believe I had some sort of dance or Junior Civitan event or something) to get our tickets from the ticket broker. We were initially in the upper deck, down the first base line in row HH, possibly with an obstructed view. However, when we picked up the tickets, we were upgraded to the upper deck behind home plate, in row L. It was a great view of the game, and I can whole-heartedly recommend the broker, Tickets of America.

This was our view (photo by Danielle):

Of note, getting to the game eleven thousand hours before it started meant that we didn’t have to pay to park–we just snatched up some street parking on our way. As soon as walked to the parking lot, there was all kinds of World Series chaos, which pretty much meant that I spent the entire time saying, “OMG! We are at the WORLD SERIES!!”

We were able to take in batting practice, which is always a little nerve-wracking for me, because of how I am scarred for life, thanks to Wily Mo Pena.

We used the time between BP and the game to buy a ridiculous amount of merchandise at the team store, which was already so crowded that we had to wait in line to get in. After that, it was time for food and seat-finding. If you are at the Trop and trying to decide, I can recommend the tacos. They were yummy, but if you are carrying them around while you try and find your seat, you WILL be stopped by about four thousand people, asking where you got them. Perhaps you should make up a sign ahead of time.

Somewhere in the chaos of the pre-game insanity, they were doing free RAYS airbrush tattoos for fans. I got mine on my arm, because I embrace the classics, but Danielle got hers on her neck. That is how she rolls.

The game was awesome. Everybody was cheering their little hearts out and ringing their little cowbells. Unlike the ALDS, though, no one in our immediate bubble of fans had a cowbell, so that really spared our ears. Particularly delicate little Danielle’s ears, since she managed to drop one of her earplugs on the ground.

Walking back to the car after the game was less fun, due to the pouring rain, but I was so excited that I didn’t really care. In spite of living in Virginia, I got to be at the Rays’ first playoff appearance and win, AND I was there for their only first World Series win. I could go on and on about my feelings about the rest of the series–and I have many complaints–but I’m going to focus on the positive. I did something impulsive and crazy and I loved every minute of it. And after all, I will always have this:

But the truth is that the bullpen sucked and lost the game, but we still have two more chances to win one game. And maybe, just maybe, if I repeat that over and over to myself I will calm down and stop overreacting.

Oh, I should note that I am upset about the loss, but not about to jump out a window or anything. Again: TWO MORE CHANCES. AT HOME. So there is no reason to keep calling or sending me emails, people. I’m not going to shoot myself in the head or something.

After all, it’s just a game.

HAHAHAHAHAHARIGHT.

* Because I was not home, and I will not set the game to record, as that would be jinxy, but after the game is over when I am actually there, I can press record so as to get the previous half hour through the end. This is what I did with Jon Lester’s no-no.

And so I present to you:

Take a drink if they mention how old the Red Sox are or how young the Rays are. Take two drinks if they mention those things in contrast to each other.

Take a drink every time you see and ad for DirecTV, Blackberry, or Viagra. Wait, on second though, eat a cookie instead, because otherwise you might DIE. You should also eat a cookie every time the “three times more channels” thing makes your skin crawl.

Take a drink whenever the TBS announcers pronounce David Ortiz’ last name as OR-tiz. Take two drinks if they get someone’s name wrong. Take a shot if they seem totally unable to call the player by his correct name, even when it’s on the onscreen graphic. Take two shots if the player in reference is poor Kevin Cash, who was called about seven different things last night, none of them actually his name.

Take a drink whenever the TBS announcers mention that the Red Sox have been in this situation before. Take two drinks when they mention how last year they were down 3-1 against the Indians and still won. Take a shot if they fail to mention how they were down 3-0 in 2004 and managed to win, even though it had NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE in professional baseball.

Take a drink whenever they follow up the “down in the series” talk with a mention of how “this is a different team.” Take two drinks if this includes a reference to Manny Ramirez.

Take a drink whenever the TBS announcers refer to to the Rays as “the upstart Rays.” Take two drinks if they use the word “Cinderella.” Take a shot if they mention that the Rays managed to win in the AL East and so they are used to playing the Red Sox in high pressure situations.

Take a drink every time there is a pitching change. If you are a Red Sox fan, finish the bottle if Mike Timlin comes in. If you are a Rays fan, do the same if you see Edwin Jackson.

SOME OF US REMEMBER THAT, JERKFACE.

NO! It is a NIGHTMARE! Either way I LOSE! WOE!

I am, of course, cheering solidly for the Rays. I don’t want the Red Sox to be humiliated*, so I hope we play some really good, really close games**, and that the Rays go on to the World Series.

Now, if Boston wins, am I going to be disappointed? Sure I am! But does that mean I’d be SAD to see them represent the AL in the World Series? No. I mean, it’s far, FAR better than the Yankees and certainly better than a team I have not feelings about (Hello, Oakland Athletics!) heading there. But, still, they won last year, and my Rays have never been anything more than the butt of everyone’s jokes. I want VINDICATION, y’all, and that is not going to come until there is some sort of garish sapphire WS ring on Evan Longoria’s finger.***

Jamie Shields said, of Boston, “It had to be them, right?” And, really, it kinda did. If we were to face off against the Angels, would it have meant as much? Sure, you have the Maddon/Percival ties to the team, and, yes, they were the team with the best record this season, but isn’t it more interesting to see the Rays face off against the Red Sox? These are two teams with HISTORY. I’m not going to jump on the Bad Blood Bandwagon, but their rivalry has at least had some passion over the years.****

Being a fan who cheers for both team is giving me a unique perspective on the series, mostly because I keep getting annoyed with both teams’ fan bases and media. The Red Sox are not some sort of evil legacy of doom that is out to crush everyone with the weight of their…I dunno, Red Sox Nation. The Rays are not some sort of upstart team that DARED to stand up against the Red Sox.

And for once, I am firmly on the other side of Red Sox Nation. Sure, I go to Camden Yards with half the population of Boston in attendance and cheer for the Sox. But, you know, the Orioles can’t fill a stadium on their own. It is, however, going to pretty seriously annoy me when RSN shows up at the Trop tonight, decked out in Ortiz jerseys and trying to drown out the sound of cowbells. This is NOT a case where the home team couldn’t fill its own stadium. And finally, FINALLY we are at that point, and I want the Bostonians to keep their asses at Fenway so that the Floridians can finally enjoy this moment without them.

So, tonight I will be ready, decked out in my shiny new 9=8 ballcap, and chugging Pepto-bismol. Let’s see if I can make it to October 22 without getting an ulcer.

* Note: I do not expect this to happen. I am not crazy. I actually expect the Rays will lose. Probably in seven to drag out the stress.
** “We.” Because I will be out there on the field catching popups.
*** Although a great deal of vindication happens when Jeter is sitting at home on his couch watching this series.
**** And I think that the Red Sox have, in a weird way, helped the Rays to discover their camaraderie. Right or wrong (although I do side with the Rays in this one), when Shields threw at Coco he didn’t just send a message to Coco and the Sox–he sent a message to his teammates that he had their back.

Things I Did Do on My Birthday
1. Fly to Florida
2. See the first pitch in Rays postseason history
3. Cheer my little heart out
4. Take a crapload of pictures
5. Ring my cowbell so hard it broke
6. See the first WIN in Rays postseason history

Now I’m going to go watch and see how far into this game JoshBECKETT can take a nono. *duck*

I was walking into my building from my car, and two guys from the store were sitting outside. There is Store!Guy, who is a Yankees fan, but who is also supernice to me, so I forgive him for that. And then there is Deli!Guy, who I don’t know as well.

Store!Guy: You must be in seventh heaven right about now!
Deli!Guy: How come?
Store!Guy: Her Tampa Bay Rays are [sic] going to [somewhere so jinxtastic I will not even *rethinkg* it please don't listen to him, baseballgods].
Deli!Guy: You’re a TAMPA BAY RAYS FAN??!?!?!?

I cannot really convey the tone of voice, though I tried with the caps and the bold and the italics and the excessively ungrammatical punctuation. Imagine, if you will, the way that someone might say, “You TiVo REBA?!?!?!???” or perhaps, “You KILLED A PUPPY?!?!?!” THAT was his level of horror that I might actually be a Rays fan living in Virginia.

I’m not sure which is more irritating: that reaction, or the time that Danielle and I went to Camden Yards dressed in Rays gear, and an Os fan looked at us, totally confused, and said, “I didn’t know you people existed.”

Well, America, we do! And we have the really annoying cowbells to prove it!