A shout out to customer service (and a public service announcement to write down your passwords)

“Mom, do you have the Horizons account password?” I briefly thought about it before giggling. What a silly question. Of course I didn’t. “What’s the matter, honey?” I asked, concerned. There was a suspended pause before Sydney answered. “My phone was stolen,” she said softly. “From church?” I gasped, horrified. “No…I wasn’t at church,” she admitted. “Well…if you weren’t at church…where were you? At a charity event?” “Let’s just say I wasn’t at church,” Sydney said, getting a little feisty (and some would say…defensive), “Can you help me?” she asked again.  I answered confidently, “Of course.”

Not.

Apparently, to access one’s Horizons password, one must be a part of a prestigious class system as an Account Owner or an Account Member. I was only a serf. If I couldn’t come up with the magical five-digit number, I would have to go, accompanied by my Account Owner (Brad…who was NOT amused by ANY of this), to the nearest Horizons hub located a convenient one and a half hours away. “How hard is it to WRITE DOWN a password?” Brad grumbled, waving his own precious password book at me.

Enter Andrea.

It started off a bit shaky. I dialed the 800 number, said a prayer to my patient God, and rattled off my life story to the customer service representative in less than ten seconds. I heard her take in a breath before asking me to please clarify my problem. Oh no, I thought, she doesn’t have a sense of humor.

How wrong I would turn out to be.

First, we tried every password combination known to man. After the hundredth attempt, I tried to end the call. “I don’t want to waste any more of your time,” I told Andrea. “We have all the time in the world,” she assured me, “Don’t give up. Surely you haven’t tried everything.” “Well,” I admitted, embarrassed, “there is one more but it’s so stupid…I’m sure I wouldn’t have used it.” “What is it?” Andrea asked, her curiosity piqued.

“54321.”

I listened as she laughed while she typed in the famed Spaceballs luggage combination.

Nope.

I attempted to conclude the call again…releasing Andrea from her misery. She had jumped through fiery hoops for me. We’d even tried re-setting the account member setting on the computer. “Look for settings,” she told me for the fiftieth time. “Andrea…” I snarled peevishly, “It isn’t on my screen.” “Left-hand corner,” she instructed. “It’s not there,” I gritted. “Did you try you OTHER left-hand corner,” she teased. “I told you…it’s not…oh,” I sheepishly hit the settings button.

Nope.

“Amy…hold the line,” Andrea finally said. “I’m going to be gone a bit but STAY on the line.” She disappeared. I waited. And waited. Was she coming back? She said she would come back. And then she was back. “I re-set your account,” she told me, “Here comes your password. Are you ready?” I nodded. “Do you have a pen?” Andrea asked doubtfully. “I have a pen,” I reassured her. “Get a pen,” Andrea ordered. Fine! I got a pen.

“5.”

I dutifully wrote “5.”

“4.”

I wrote “4” and frowned.

“3.”

“Andrea…,” my voice dropped down into the danger zone.

“Amy…write it down,” she chortled.

I wrote “3.”

You guessed it. We both laughed our heads off. By this time, Andrea knew all about my family and job. She had counselled me on my doubts and insecurities. Encouraged me to step out of my comfort zones. Applauded my successes. And had been added to my Christmas card list.

I thanked my new friend and attempted to hang up once again. “Oh no,” she insisted, “I’m seeing this through to the end. Text the girls the pass code and tell me when it goes through.” Within minutes, Sydney was on her way to new phone ownership and Andrea had pictorial evidence when I sent her a photo of my daughter victoriously gripping her trophy! Touchdown!

And that’s what Customer Service is all about, Charlie Brown!