All I Want is an Ink Cartridge

It should have been, oh, so simple.

I was printing a script on the new Dell printer I got when I purchased a new computer several months ago.  To be honest, I hadn't really used the printer much so you could imagine my surprise when the toner cut out about ten pages into Act One.

Ink cartridges are normally the bane of the existence of any computer users, especially writers.   The refills are so overpriced by the wonderful outsourced folks at Dell.  With my last printer, I thought I had found a great resource.  Instead of ordering from your computer maker, you could simply take the empty cartridge down to the photo shop at Walgreen's.  They'd load you back up and you were good to go.  Ten bucks.

So, when my script started showing a lot more white space on Saturday, I just unloaded the empty cartridge and marched down to Walgreen's for the needed ink replenishment.  Except...

"Sorry, sir.  Dell changed something and we can't refill cartridges anymore."

Damn.  What the hell had happened?  Who's the snitch that turned my good friends at Walgreen's in?  I start to imagine the sting operation that had occurred at my drug store.  Some poor kid trying to develop photos and suddenly being held at gunpoint by some Dell "swat-like" patrol who flew in at midnight from New Delhi.

More likely, Dell had simply figured out how to make more money.  I had no recourse but to order some overpriced ink cartridges from them.  I walked home dejected.  Not only was this going to cost me more money, but...

I was going to have to call...

GASP.

Dell Customer Service.  Cue the ominous organ crescendo.

I tried unsuccessfully their on-line store, but couldn't figure out exactly what I needed for my computer.  Plus I wanted to find out why my relatively new ink  cartridge had run out before I even got to our first act break.  Yes, I needed to speak to a Dell representative.

Cue even more ominous organ crescendo.

You wait for what seems to be an eternity for the Dell automated operator to click in.  After running through the menu, I hit whatever symbol was designated for Customer Service.

Another eternity.  I now know that my phone line is being diverted to a far-off land.  Hmmm.  Which country half a globe away will I get?

"Hello, this is Zooey.  How may I provide you with excellent customer service today?"

I listened intently for gale force winds or pelting rain.  No monsoon?  Okay, it must be a calm day for Zooey in India.

I had done my homework.  I knew exactly what I needed to order.  But, first, Zooey, I'm a trifle curious.  Can you explain to me why my relatively new ink cartridge didn't make it past Page 10?

"The ink cartridge that comes with the printer is only a starter cartridge.  There is not much toner in it.  Thank you very much."

Well, the way I wrote that, Zooey sounds a lot more coherent than she really was.  That statement alone took five minutes for me to decipher.  I countered that this was a less-than-decent business practice and akin to a car dealership only giving you enough gas to drive your new vehicle home from the lot. 

Zooey didn't understand my analogy.  Of course not.  I'm talking automobiles and she probably lives in a town powered by donkey carts.  I needed to move on for the sake of my sanity.

Easier said than done.

I gave Zooey the exact model number of the cartridge and told her that I wanted to order enough cartridges so that I never spoke to her again.

But, first...

"I need to look up your Dell customer profile, thank you very much."

The spelling of my last name required another five minutes of my life.

"Can you confirm your address for me, thank you very much?"

Five minutes more.

"Let me read back your address, thank you very much."

Naturally, she got it wrong the first two times.  I needed to explain to her the apparently very American concept of an apartment number.

Of course, upon my quite specific recitation of the exact model number of the exact ink cartridge I needed, Zooey was not trusting.

"Let me look up your printer model so I can learn the type of ink cartridge that best fits your needs, thank you very much."

What the hell did I just give you?  Matt Kemp's on-base percentage?

Five minutes more.  Why the delay, Zooey?

"I am so sorry for your inconvenience.  Thank you very much.  Our computer system just went down."

You're a fucking computer company!  How do you not keep your computer system running?  And is this indicative of the new desktop I just bought from you three months ago???

Two minutes more.

"We are back up, sir.  Thank you very much."

I'm sorry, Zooey.  I was away from the phone for a moment.  Basting my Thanksgiving turkey.

"Sir, I can now begin to process your order for a new ink cartridge.  How many do you want, thank you very much?"

Three.

"We have a special today for our Dell preferred customers.  Two black ink cartridges..."

Three.

"We also have a special today for our Dell preferred customers.  Five black ink cartridges plus five color cartridges."

Three.  Black only, please.

"Sir, I acknowledge your request for three black ink cartridges, thank you very much."

Ten minutes more as Zooey needed to make sure they were in stock.  She also needed to confirm my status as a Dell Preferred Customer as well as my participation in good standing as a member of the human race.  It took me less time to buy my Yonkers apartment in 1993.

At last, we were moving towards a conclusion.  It had been almost an hour.  Either Dell has a particularly long script for their customer service or Zooey is incredibly lonely.

"Sir, may I interest you in any other Dell products today, thank you very much?"

No.

"May I ask if you are planning to upgrade your desktop any time soon, thank you very much?"

I told you countless times that my computer was purchased three months ago.  Why the heck would I need an upgrade, thank you very much?

"Sir, we are having a sale on laptops."

No.

"High definition television monitors..."

No.

"The latest in virus protection..."

No.  Let me know, Zooey, when you get to firearms because you may have a taker.  So I can blow my brains out on this call.

The thank yous alone took five minutes.  Apparently, Indians have a very hard time saying "goodbye."  Meanwhile, their menfolk simply get set on fire on a flower-laden raft and then sent down the river.  If only it would be so easy for me...

Another quarter-hour was devoted to the recitation of the expected delivery date as well as the order number, the tracking number, and what might have been Zooey's ATM PIN number.

"Have I provided excellent service to you today, sir, thank you very much?"

If excellence is measured in hours, I guess you have.

When the phone call finally ended, I needed to ice the crick on my neck.  I had spent more time talking to Zooey than I have with some relatives in the past ten years.  But, there was a silver lining.  I will soon be the proud owner of three black ink cartridges.

Provided she got the order right.  Thank you very much.

Dinner last night:  Salisbury steak at the Cheesecake Factory.