The other day, I don’t know why (okay, it’s because I’m still working on my rewrite, and this is exactly the kind of thing I start doing when I’m in rewrite purgatory), I decided that my contribution to eradicating global warming was going to come in the form of stopping the pile of junk mail and credit card offers that appear in my mailbox on a daily basis, all of which I end up shredding. I also decided that it was time to “downsize” the amount of old accounts I have, most of which I don’t use, and that this might help as well. Again, this is the kind of thing, like organizing your sock drawer or actually sewing buttons on shirts, that you would really only do if you were procrastinating from doing something else like finishing your book.
Anyway, someone told me recently that credit card companies have to take you off their solicitation list if you call them and ask them, and so I thought it was worth a try. Did I know how time-consuming this was going to be?
Maybe. During this process, I have accumulated the following observations:
** Why do the people who work at the credit card company call centers always sound like they’re in prison? Are they, in fact, in prison? I’m not even going to go off on the fact that not one of them can spell “Culwell.” Is the last name “Caldwell” really that much more common that all of them want to spell it this way? Baffling, really. If I seriously hear one more person say “C-A-L-D-W-E-L-L?” right after I say and spell my name, I think I’m going to bug out.
** Having discovered a positively ancient Bloomingdale’s card in my desk, I call to cancel the account. “Why are you closing it?” says the customer service man. “I haven’t used this account in four years,” I say. “It doesn’t look like I’m utilizing your services, and I want you to stop sending me mail.”
“Is there another reason?” he says. “Is there anything we can do to change your mind?”
“Um, no…..I’m pretty much not using your card, so just go ahead and turn it off. Thanks.”
A long silence, followed by a testy “I have honored your request. Now….will there be anything else?”
It’s like I’m breaking up with him. For some reason I feel oddly compelled to tell him that we can still be friends, that his card has a lot of qualities that I really like in a card, but that alas, I have moved on to another card, and maybe he should go out and try to meet someone else.
**After a questionably long time on hold, I discover that Citibank wants to keep my business. In fact, they want to keep it so much that they have a team of people dedicated to “customer retention,” and they are authorized to give me a $20 credit, just to keep me from closing my account that day. Of course, if you’ve already cut up the card, you’re not going to use the $20, but for some reason I have fallen for this more than once. Maybe I am a sucker for a phantom $20, who knows? What I do know is that I have this same “I should downsize” idea every six months, and then have this same Citibank phonecall, so I stopped the insanity once and for all yesterday, even in the face of the free phantom $20.
So yeah, getting a lot of work done on the new book. Thanks for asking.