The Enemies List

...or, "Businesses Which Have Earned My Ire In The Last Month."

I don't know if it's something to do with the economy, or Liberal policies at Queen's Park, or if it's some kind of VooDoo curse, but in the last month, an inordinate number of businesses have pissed me off beyond the level that has been acceptable in the past. Yes, orders may be wrong on occasion, and sometimes inconveniences happen - but since when did businesses stop caring about keeping customers? Here's a list of just three companies that have just seemed to stop caring about making money.

Bell Sympatico:

It sits at the top of my list alphabetically, and in order of the magnitude of my rage that is directed toward it. Bell Sympatico has decided that since it is popular, it no longer has to provide adequate service, and has taken to throttling download speeds on its (what has to be ironically named) Hi-Speed Internet service. I am now stuck with speeds that are not even one tenth of what I had on Monday.

But that alone isn't enough to tick me off to the degree to which I am ticked off now. If they want to screw me by changing the rules in mid-play, then that's fine: I'm sure Rogers would appreciate my business a lot more then those beavers do.

No, what really made me mad was that they attempted to keep their activity a fucking secret. Hey guys, how about a giving me a little ring, or dropping an email, to tell me that you're going to reduce my service from "usable" to "utter shite?" What, did you honestly believe that no one was going to notice that it was now taking over 3 hours to download 350 MBs of data, when it would previously take under 10 minutes? Geez, guys, you're acting like a crown corporation, here. Have a little fucking respect for the people who are paying your pensions, alright?

Pizza Pizza:

When one orders a pizza, even with the automated service today, one expects to encounter at least a modicum of gratitude that you've chosen their pizza place ahead of all the dozens, perhaps hundreds, of others in the city.

One also expects that there would be at least one goddamn Pizza Pizza restaurant with a fucking driver available to deliver, even if I have to wait four hours for him to arrive.

One does not expect to go through an epic struggle with the computer-voice lady on the phone, only to be connected to a gruff sounding man with an Indian accent telling you that they can't deliver because they "have no drivers." What? Like, none? Anywhere? You mean to tell me that in the whole fucking city of Toronto, there is not one Pizza Pizza with an available delivery driver that you could connect me to? Not one?

As unlikely as that is, I was willing to let it go. But then, get this: he says "tough luck." Ohhhh, now you've made me angry, and as my good friend* Lou Ferrigno once commented, "you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

Why the hell would you go and do a stupid thing like that? Do you view me as scum? Are your customers nothing better than vermin, that you are here to do us a favor, and that we are here simply to open our wallets and be ever thankful that you saw us worthy enough to partake of your sweet ambrosia? If you have no delivery drivers, you apologize - profusely. You try to make amends. You offer me some free drinks when I come to pick up my pizza. You don't act like I was only going to waste your masterpiece of a pizza-pie anyway, and probably didn't deserve it.

It's not like I was being an asshole about the whole situation, either - it is conceivable, however unlikely, that all people within the ranks of Pizza Pizza's finest with a driver's license were struck down by an outbreak of polio, however unlikely. It might not have been your fault - but don't act like it was mine, either.

Pizza Nova:
I called Pizza Nova immediately after the Pizza Pizza incident, so for full disclosure, I might not have been as friendly as I could have been. But they put ground beef on my pizza when I asked for sausage, cut the pizza as a rabbit with a knife attached to its chin and orders to "sniff for clues" might have, and I found a strange leaf under the cheese of one of the slices. And we're not talking a little clove of something here, we're talking a freakin' palm or something. It had the consistency of boiled spinach. And I was not pleased.

But, all things considered, Pizza Nova actually came out on top. Congratulations, Nova: you are the least worthless of the companies on my List of Enemies. Enjoy it, savor it, believe that you can do better.

As for Pizza Pizza and Bell? Well, let's just say those beavers would have to change into friggin' leprechauns before I entertain any feelings of good will toward them again.

*Note, we are not good friends. My family has, however, shared the phone number that used to belong to one George Chuvalo long ago, and we still get the occasional caller looking for the former Canadian heavyweight champion. I'm sure he probably met Ferrigno, and that means I'm closer to him than any of you. Probably.