The sheriff of Consumertown

For most of us in Toronto, calling a telecom company is a vexing chore at best, at worst one which makes us feel like terrorized rats who have, trying to get a food pellet, been zapped by electrical charges one time too often.

There is the blaring Irish reel music, the repeated and ultimately useless announcements, the counterfeit sympathy, and the false promises and wanton hangups made by the employees, to name but a few scare tactics. Almost all of us are left trembling and choosing unresolved woes as a far better option than that phone call.

Many of the staff are nice people, and it is not their fault that they are rarely empowered to do much but make promises they really cannot keep. Since I have nothing nice to say about the others I will say nothing at all.

I recently found myself at the end of three weeks of trying to resolve a prob- lem regarding my phone and its contract, while enduring the pain of a pinched nerve.

Unable to call the number again or even hear a note of the faux-Gaelic music, I contacted your consumer affairs columnist, the amazing Ellen Roseman.

I felt bad contacting her, knowing the hell I was locking her into.

Yet, within a day, I was speaking to someone at head office who assisted me greatly and immediately. He also saw me through the entire process, going so far as to credit me for the SIM card that did not arrive.

This was after a farrago of miscommunication, outright chicanery and many hours on the phone during what had become my wretched new job.

When another problem occurred, relatively minor, Roseman assisted me again with great professionalism and kindness. She could have cut me off, but she persisted until everything was resolved. I was called by yet another very helpful person in the president’s office, and I cannot tell you how pleasantly shocked I was by this entire experience.

I urge your readers to contact this phenomenal columnist next time they need to bring in the de facto sheriff of Consumertown. Lynn Crosbie, Toronto