Ahhhhh, AT&T

Before I left, I called AT&T five times on the topic of international texting. I have witnessed who are nodding their head as they read this. Five times. I have the notes. I kept calling because I kept getting a different answer to a seemingly simple question: Can I text people from Ethiopia?

Yes!

No.

Yes!

No.

            “Yes,” said Mark Watson. “Absolutely.”

            “You promise?” I was still suspicious.

            “Yes,” he said confidently. “I promise.” He gave a little chuckle. I wasn’t laughing. Mark was my fifth AT&T rep on this subject, each of whom looked up “Ethiopia,” each of whom asked me about the purpose of my trip, each of whom I spent a fair amount of time on the phone with.

            Mark sent me a text on May 10: “Mark Watson, ATT Customer Care Check Up: Everything looks like it’s going good. Have a safe trip.” I saved the text because I have learned not to trust AT&T.

            I purchased the International Plan based on Mark’s confidence and the fact that he was telling me what I wanted to hear: 500 texts per billing cycle for $50. I knew was ending my inquiry to AT&T on the “best outta five” answers I got and I knew that I was stopping with the answer I wanted.

            I really wanted to believe.

            So—because I want to believe but just can’t get that kernel of doubt out of my mind—every single time I sent a text, I dutifully made a tick mark in the Notes app on my iPhone:

            April 30: 26

            May 3: 16

            May 5: 29

            May 11: 19

            My calendar reminded me tonight that my billing cycle ends today, May 15. Yep. I added up how many texts I’ve sent over the last 17 days: 325. Dang, I thought,  I left 175 texts on the table! Ha ha! Well … I have until midnight … I’ll text a bunch of people to say hello.

            May 15: 49

            Okay, so be it … 126 text messages unused. The only other plan was for 200 messages, so it’s cool.

            Just as I settled in for the night, I received a text: “AT&T Free Msg: Your international SMS usage is high. Please call 1-916-843-4685 (International Customer Care) to prevent a costly bill. AT&T Customer Service.”

            Yep. Here we go.

I dialed the number. While it rang and I listened patiently through the computerized greetings and instructions, I thought: Hmmmmm. Wonder if I’ll have to pay for this call. Hmmmmm. Wonder if there’s any chance that I just got a warning b/c I sent so many texts this evening. Hmmmm. I wonder if THIS time I’ll switch to Verizon … cuz I already know this ain’t gonna go well.

            I thought about hanging up. It’s just ‘cuz I sent so many texts this evening,ˆ I thought. Again … I wanted to believe, but I thought of the alternative: an enormous bill. I stayed on the line. After going through the typical “Press 2” for this and “Press 5” for that, Victoria answered. We went through the requisite security questions before I could ask: “Victoria, am I going to have to pay for this call?”

            She assured me: “No.”

            Mmmmmmhmmmmm.

            I asked Victoria to please review my records and usage to help me understand why I’d gotten the warning text message.

            “Do you have an iPhone?” she asked.

            “Yes, I do,” I replied, not sure why this was relevant. I knew better than to ask, though … don’t complicate things.

            Long pause. “I see that you are way over on your texting.”
            “Well, I’m not because I’ve kept track, but let’s continue,” I replied calmly. Again … one thing at a time … don’t complicate things with little details like facts.

            “I see that you’ve only used twelve of your 500-text package,” Victoria continued.

            “Well, that, then, negates your first remark,” I replied, immediately scolding myself for being a smart ass and insisting that I get back on track: “Clearly there is some confusion, Victoria; I’ll give you a few moments to investigate this further.”

            Pause. “What country are you in?” Victoria asked.

            “Ethiopia.”

            “Eeeethioooopia,” she responded. Didn’t bode well. “Have you been to any other countries this month?”

            “I was in Turkey for an hour or so on a layover,” I told her. “Otherwise, I’ve only been in Ethiopia.”

            “Okay,” Victoria said. Her tone implied that she had the mystery solved. “I believe that you sent twelve text messages while you were in Turkey.”

            “Possibly,” I replied, uninterested.

            “And those were the only text messages covered by the International Plan.”

            Mmmmmmhmmmmm.

            She continued: “The other one thousand, seventy-one messages are not covered by the plan.”

            Remain calm, I told myself. Smile. Breathe. You knew this would happen, didn’t you? Yes. You knew. “Okay, Victoria,” I began, “thank you, however we need to review a few things.”

            “Yes,” she responded willingly.

            “To begin with, I’ve been keeping track of my outgoing texts: I have sent 364 this billing period as of ten minutes ago. I’m not going to argue the figure you just gave me, but I was told that incoming texts are not charged. Perhaps the ‘one thousand, seventy-one’ messages you quoted reflect incoming texts.” I wasn’t really asking her … I didn’t care. The point was moot, the jig was up, the discrepancy between the number of text messages they say I sent versus the number I’ve religiously ticked off will not be an argument I will have. What I wanted to know was whether I was being charged for incoming texts.

            “No,” Victoria said quickly, “incoming texts are free. You were given correct information in that regard.”

            “Okay, thank you,” I said.

            “You sent one thousand, seventy-one texts.”

            “Well, I didn’t,” I said, biting my tongue, “but let’s move on. As you can see from my record, Victoria—because I asked every single representative to whom I spoke to please make a note of what they told me—I had been informed that the International Plan was valid in Ethiopia. And you can see that I spoke to Mark Watson and that he was the fifth representative to whom I spoke on this topic. Correct?”

            “Yes, Ms. Williams,” Victoria said professionally. “I am making a note on your record that you were given incorrect information and that you should be credited for the overage of text messages.”

            “Thank you,” I said simply, making a mental note that I would have to have this conversation all over again when I got back to the United States.

            “Now, Ms. Williams,” she continued, “from this point forward, every text you send will cost you 50¢ … AT&T can no longer be responsible for your text messages from this point forward.”

            Bite your tongue, Debra … harder … bite it … “Yes, I understand, Victoria,” I said through gritted teeth. “I understand and believe that to be reasonable, however,” I couldn’t stop myself , “I would appreciate it if you would make note that I did make every effort in good faith to use the International Plan appropriately and that I made five phone calls to AT&T to assure that I understood my responsibility.”

            “Yes, Ms. Williams, I am notating your record … ‘five calls,’” she repeated back to me. “Now, Ms. Williams, these overage texts, these one thousand, seventy-one texts …” There was a condescension in her voice that caused my jaw to clamp again. Bite it! I reminded myself. This is pretty much the scenario you anticipated from Day 1! Bite your tongue! She continued: “This overage is over $535. AT&T cannot be responsible for any more texts from this point forward. All additional texts will cost 50¢ each.”

            “Yes, Victoria,” I grimaced. “Thank you. I understand.”

            “So I am making a note,” she continued without acknowledging my understanding, “that AT&T should credit 1,071 text messages up to this point in time.”

            The word “should” rang loudly. Noted. She wasn’t actually solving that aspect of this situation, she was just leaving a note of her opinion. Sigh. Yep. When I get home. Noted.

            “Is there anything else with which I can assist you today, Ms. Williams?” she ticked off robotically.

            “Yes, Victoria, there is. If this plan is useless to me, there is no point in continuing it.”

            “Yes, you’re right,” she said in a human voice again, one that sounded surprised at itself for not having thought of that herself. “Hmmmmm.”

            Here we go.

            “Will you be traveling to any other countries, Ms. Williams?” she asked.

You’re not really going to try to sell me something at this point in the game, right, Victoria? I thought to myself. “I am, yes,” I replied, “but it’s also in Africa—Kenya, I’ll be in Kenya—but I assume that the plan is invalid there as well.”           

            “Well, Ms. Williams,” she began, “I’m asking because it looks like if I remove the plan, your phone will become inactive. It appears that the plan is making it possible for you to use your phone at all.”

            Sigh. Yep. “Okay, Victoria,” I began, “then you can see that I wouldn’t have bothered with the 500-text plan, I would have chosen the least expensive plan simply to be able to receive texts and have an operable phone in case of emergency.”

            “Yes … yes,” she agreed. “You will also need to address this.” Not sure why I will have to address all these things again since I’m on the phone with you right this moment, I thought, but I have zero expectations for AT&T to be efficient or helpful and I’m still not convinced that I won’t have to pay for this call, so I will also keep this to myself. Victoria continued: “I apologize that you were given bad information, Ms. Williams. The regular customer care representatives aren’t trained well on the international plans.”

            Clearly.

“Okay, Victoria, so to summarize: I understand that I can receive text messages at no charge, correct?”

            “Yes.”

            “And because I have a U.S. number, friends will not be charged additionally to text me just because I’m overseas. Correct?”

            “Yes.”

            “And I understand that from this point forward, every text I send will cost 50¢. Correct?”

            “Correct.”

            “Thank you, Victoria, I appreciate your assistance. Have a nice evening.” Done. I’ve been around the AT&T merry-go-round often enough to know that any further discussion was useless until I got home, and even then it would likely be useless.

            “You’re welcome, Ms. Williams,” Victoria said in closing. “I hope I have provided you with excellent customer service today. Good bye.”

            Hundred bucks says I have to pay for that call.