Dear Tommy Lee Jones,
Congrats on the 1993 Oscar, and on that television voice-over gig for SBC. Sweet.
Jeez, Tommy, I miss SBC. They used to give me trouble-free phone service. Then, a few months ago, I began preparing for my big move out of the city by purchasing a T-Mobile cell phone.
Dear Catherine Zeta-Jones,
Kudos on the 2002 Oscar, and on your spokesmodel flacking job for T-Mobile. My new T-Mobile phone can do amazing things: play games, take pictures, wake me up with selections from Götterdämmerung.
Its sole weakness lies in the area of providing decent telephone service.
My neighbors talk on their non-T-Mobile cell phones all the time: while eating, while gardening, while sitting on the crapper.
The one place my T-Mobile phone can make a connection is at the far end of my driveway … but only on the left side.
So I wrote to your co-workers at T-Mobile, Cathy. They said this area has “a few holes.”
Funny, I get five bars at each of the half-dozen local shopping malls … which all sell T-Mobile phones, by the way.
Then they offered 50 free bonus minutes to amend the situation.
But if the phone won’t work here, extra minutes aren’t much help, are they?
Dear James Earl Jones,
You may be wondering why you haven’t yet won an Oscar. I suspect this is God’s punishment for being Verizon’s front man. Shame on you, Jimmy.
Verizon is the phone company that has a stranglehold monopoly on landlines in this neighborhood. The first open installation date on their schedule was 10 days after I contacted them. It seemed like a long time, but what could I do? Switch to the Dixie-Cup-and-a-String Phone Company?
So I waited all day, on the appointed date. No installer. When I called them from the T-Mobile phone, out on the left-hand side of my driveway, they said it would take at least another week. After I pissed and moaned, they offered a $25 credit for the inconvenience.
I tried to tell ‘em I’d rather have a competent telephone company, but the damn T-Mobile phone cut me off.
Have your people call my people,
Alan C. Baird