It all started when I had a little time on my hands (AKA doing anything else but buckling down to craft the second half of my latest book). My current credit card is an Aeroplan Visa from TD. This originally had two things going for it: Aeroplan points earned on purchases and no fee courtesy of my chequing account at said bank.
Note that I have been an Aeroplan member since inception. My fellow road warriors and I would awe the Air Canada check-in staff by rattling off our Aeroplan number from memory (still can). Or at least we thought we were awing them. I’m sure they really thought we were pathetic people who spent more time at airports and on planes than at home. And indeed, we were pretty pathetic. I remember one of my colleagues saying, as we waited at our usual departure gate from San Franciso to Toronto, “my biggest fear is that the entertainment system at my seat won’t work.” Plane crashes? Hijackers? Malfunctioning toilets? None of these were at the top of the list when faced with the horror of six silent hours.
Back in that day, frequent flyer status came with a cornucopia of perks that only those of us whose bums filled full-price seats could earn. Lounge vouchers, early boarding, seating in coveted row 12. And the ability to actually use your points to book free flights. Alas, all those things are ancient history. Today you can buy status simply by paying a high enough fee for your credit card and a measly 100,000 points will barely get you to Halifax and back, as long as it’s not during a blackout period.
Anyhow, I decided it was time to ditch my Aeroplan credit card and swap it for one with more generic travel points. So I picked up the phone. And reached malfunctioning IVR system that welcomed me profusely but went AWOL when it was time to enter my credit card number, to help serve me better. With some patience and copious redialing, I finally got through. Miraculously, Nala, who purported to be an actual human, was at my service.
We completed the verification dance and got down to business. “I’d like to change my Aeroplan Visa to an Infinite Travel Visa please,” I said.
“You haven’t yet activated the new card we sent you at the end of September,” Nala said. “I can’t change you to a different card until you activate that one.”
“What new card? My current one doesn’t expire until January.”
“We sent you a new one because we’ve upgraded you to the Privilege card,” said Nala.
“But I didn’t ask to be upgraded. And I haven’t been back to my house since late September and won’t be there for another week. It’s sitting in my mailbox if it hasn’t been stolen. Can’t you just cancel it?”
“I can’t just cancel it. I’d have to report it stolen in order to do that,” said Nala.
“What’s wrong with reporting it stolen?”
“Well, I know it wasn’t actually stolen so I’d get in trouble and have to fill out an exception report,” said Nala.
“So if I understand what you’re saying, I have to activate the new card I didn’t ask for and nobody bothered to tell me I was getting, then cancel the card, then spend my time to call you back so I can change from the card I no longer want to another one. Then wait for the new one to be delivered before I can use my Visa card.”
“Yes ma’am,” Nala said. “Have a nice day.”
Inside voice: don’t tell me what to do, Nala. And I’m glad I didn’t inconvenience you with my customer service needs. Outside voice: “Have a nice day, Nala.” In whichever life form you happen to inhabit.