First things first

This is the time of year when many of us are faced with some or all of the following:

—A deluge of catalogs in our mailboxes. What’s up with that, anyway? I mean, just how many copies of Catalog X does a person need to receive within one month? Certainly not six. (Save some trees—and your mailbox—by registering at Catalog Choice, a free service that helps you get off those mailing lists.)

—Lots of sanctimonious talk (on blogs, in church, in editorials) about how shopping and spending are out of control at this time of year. First of all, Christmas-time consumerism has been happening for well over a century, so this is nothing new. And second, why focus on just Christmas? We have a huge problem with consumerism in general, so perhaps those “spend less money and spend more time being with people you love and helping others” messages ought to be shouted out year-round. (This reminds of those god-awful local news spots at food kitchens on Thanksgiving, with the reporter who says, “Volunteers are here giving up their Thanksgiving* in order to give something back** and show the down and out that someone cares for them”…to which I want to add “…until Thanksgiving is over and society decides to forget about you again until next year.”)

(*Start handing out the Nobel Peace Prizes, please!)
(**Is it just me, or does this phrase make you, too, want to retch?)

—Stressing out about what gifts we do want to give. Jan and I keep our gift-giving pretty simple. We shop for just a few people, and we really try to find something that we think the recipient will enjoy (which is why, much as I like the idea in theory, we never give gifts of charitable donations in someone else’s name). We also don’t go crazy with the spending (unlike someone I used to ride the commuter train with who told me that the adults in his family now usually spend $1,000 per person on gifts each year).

This year, I think I’ve found the perfect gift for everyone on my list. It’s something that people aren’t likely to have bought for themselves already. Look how small it is—it won’t contribute to anyone’s clutter, and shipping will be super cheap! And really, who doesn’t need their own chunk of uranium ore?

Two days ago the June statement for my Visa card came in the mail. Because of a busy weekend, I didn’t get around to opening it until this morning, and I was very surprised by what I found: two $25.90 charges, spaced one month apart, for AOL service.

I should point out a few things:

1. This card is associated with a particular merchant, and I use it only when shopping with that merchant (so I get free shipping) or when shopping at one of the few places (e.g., my local health-food store) that does not accept my primary credit card. This card gets very little use (monthly statements often have no balance), so out-of-the-ordinary charges definitely stick out.

2. I do not use AOL. I have never used AOL.

First, I try to call the telephone number listed next to the AOL charge on my card statement and immediately got stuck in AOL’s IVR hell. Pressing zero didn’t work, saying “I want to talk to a human” didn’t work, and the tips at IVR Hacks and Gethuman didn’t work.

So I decided to take a break from trying to contact AOL. I called my credit-card company to dispute the charge–no problems there. But they said I’d need to call AOL to make sure the subscription was canceled. Sigh.

Back I went to AOL’s IVR system. After about ten minutes of mucking around and getting more and more frustrated, I restarted the call. The first question asks if you are currently an AOL subscriber. Rather than answer yes, this time I said no. The second question asked if I wanted to sign up. “Yes!” I answered jubilantly. And whammo–I was instantly directed to a real, live, customer-service rep who was able to answer my questions.*

Let me get this straight: if you want to start a new subscription to AOL, they are falling over themselves in their eagerness to talk with you. But if you’re a current AOL customer with any sort of query whatsoever, well, they’ll talk with you, too–but only if you jump through a gazillion IVR hoops (and heaven forbid you reach a point where none of the answer prompts is the one that suits your case!).

Wow, that’s great customer service, isn’t it?

*As it turns out, these AOL charges were fraudulent: someone I didn’t know was using my card to get AOL service. So I had to call the credit-card company to report this and request a new card. Ugh.