Lucky us!
Dianne M. Schanne, Director of Consumer Marketing at Verizon, sent my husband a letter today.
“Dear Chris,” it read.
“You’re in luck. Now you can get superfast Verizon Online DSL!”
A description of how superfast Verizon Online DSL would change our lives followed. Apparently, we would “find everything more exciting and lifelike.” Just what I’d always wanted from our porno internet!
Carefully bolded in the center of the letter was: “Lucky you. Sign up online and get your first month free.”
Two more reminders about the first free month followed, just in case the reader of the letter had Attention Deficit Disorder.
For further emphasis, Dianne had placed a box in the upper right corner of the letter. Inside the box was: “Lucky you. Now you can get Verizon Online DSL for as low as $29.95 a month.”
Despite the heavyhanded advertising, I was intrigued.
As official bill-payer of our household, I knew that $30 for Internet access was better than the $50 we were currently paying, so I went online to the Verizon website.
The website refused to divulge any details of my lucky deal until I entered our phone number. I did so, and while I waited for Verizon to check my number, I was treated to an array of ads informing me that my life was going to be so much better with Verizon Online DSL. I could do so much with it — talk and surf, listen to music, grow hair on my chest…
Before I could ponder the enormity of switching to Verizon Online DSL, the webpage finished checking my number. Brusquely, it informed me that “Verizon Online DSL is not available for your phone number.”
Just like that, my little fantasy of Verizon Online DSL and me living happily ever after was destroyed.
Now that Verizon knew I wasn’t actually one of the privileged ones, it didn’t care what webpages I looked at next. Without Verizon Online DSL, I was incapable of “enjoying online activities,” and I felt like a leper when Verizon tried to subtly encourage me to move on to a new website and asked me to clear my cache.
Sure, I could fill out a form to be contacted when DSL became available, but if we got another letter, how would we know that we really had DSL available? Maybe Dianne was lonely. Maybe she had money to blow in her budget to send out these cruel hoaxes to everyone. Or maybe she just wanted to remind me how meaningless my life was without Verizon Online DSL.
I felt betrayed. Dianne had told me I was lucky (three times!) and in the end, I wasn’t lucky at all — just the target of a bad marketing campaign. Oh Verizon Online DSL! I barely knew you and how I shall miss you every day!
Posted by: Supersonic Jane | October 12, 2004 | 4:33 pm
Posted in: This Life