There’s an extra bounce in my step today, perhaps a little extra change in my pocket (as to whether it goes jing-a-ling-a-ling, that’s for another story, perhaps one set in 1986). On this weekend of love and romance and Valentines, I’m celebrating a break-up that’s been a long time coming.
Today, I ended my two-year relationship with DirecTV.
I couldn’t be happier.
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DirecTV’s timing couldn’t be worse.
Just days after starting the pre-planning toward leaving satellite TV for the futuristic territory of online service, I received my latest DirecTV bill. Despite not having ordered any new programming, this month’s bill was almost $20 higher than last month’s. Perhaps they learned of my not-so-secret scheme to leave the company and put in place a plan designed to milk me for a few extra dollars.
Or, more likely, they are just continuing the overall poor performance and customer service I’ve received, literally, since my first day of service.
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So ... there I was 