Dear AT&T,

I recently purchased a new two-year contract to join your wireless network. After leaving AT&T for Verizon during my freshman year of college, my rejoining your network made me feel like a soldier returning from war. To that end, the first thing I wanted to do was get laid. So, I did. The second thing I wanted to do was buy a new phone to make me an official AT&T user. So, I did. I got a very nice phone, in fact, that I feel also doubles as a status symbol. When people see me walking down the street with my fancy AT&T phone, they know I’m a sophisticated man who enjoys the finer things that life has to offer. Pappy Van Winkle bourbon. Esplendido cigars. 2 Girls, 1 Cup. These are but a few of my favorite things, to quote Rodgers and Hammerstein.

In order to protect my most recent investment, I decided that it would be in my best interest to purchase a light carrying case for my phone. This would protect the poor baby if it were ever to fall from my hand. Also, it could act as a deterrent against scratches, chinks and dings, or what the laypeople will refer to as “boo boos” to their material possessions. I chose the AT&T Cingular Wireless store nearest to my residence as the location where I could most easily exchange my money for the high-quality, brand-name goods that I desired. I easily could have driven downtown and purchased a cheap imitation case from some migrant worker without U.S. citizenship, but I elected to take the high road — as I always do, in all facets of my life — and keep my business dealings legitimate.

$43.26 later, I had a streamlined black flexi-case for my phone and a hip holster, or whatever the name is for that goofy thing old people use to clip their phones to their belt buckles. I elected to keep it in the box and never, ever use. Those things look so retarded, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to tarnish my reputation by wearing one of those belt-clips in public.

Ahem.

A few days ago, I began noticing that my phone was experiencing technical difficulties. The screen continually died whenever I tried to place or receive a phone call. Sometimes, in the middle of a call, if I wanted to turn on the speaker phone, I would pull the device away from my ear, and watch the screen flicker and die. I could not figure out what was causing this problem. It took my talking to a friendly customer service representative named Bryce to realize that my phone had a sensor inside it that told it when to dim and brighten the screen. Apparently the sensor judges the distance between the phone and one’s ear in order to choose whether or not it should grow dim or brighten itself. I tried removing the phone from the new plastic case, and, voila! The sensor began working as it should. After twenty or thirty minutes of trying to figure out what was wrong, I realized that the case was at fault!

I rushed back to the AT&T store with my case and clip…thingy in hand, and told them that I would like to return the items because they were prohibiting my phone from functioning properly. That’s when I was told AT&T does not accept returns on accessories. I nearly shit my pants. How could this be? I gave you almost fifty dollars for an item that was supposed to protect my phone from external forces, it — in effect — caused my phone to cease functioning properly, and now you’re telling me that I can’t return it? Why? I’ve basically paid you $50 for the ability to make my phone not work, and you’re okay with that. But if I ask for my $50 back, return the faulty accessory, and wind up with a phone that works as it should, the answer is “No.” Something about this doesn’t seem quite right to me.

I always thought the basic principle of the buyer/seller code is that a buyer pays for goods from a seller, and either enjoys the product and uses it, or doesn’t enjoy it and brings it back for a refund. I especially thought that in an instance in which the product in question has a detrimental effect on the buyer, a return is not only expected but mandatory. I never thought the process could be as simple as: “This thing fucked up my phone.” “Sorry, no returns.” That’s a load of bullshit. It’s not like I paid with counterfeit money. If that were the case I could understand your company not accepting a return. I paid you with very good money. I expected a perfectly good product in return. I didn’t get one. I can’t get away with just not paying for a product, and yet I’m supposed to think it’s fine for you to sell a shitty product and have the arrogance to not accept a return? AT&T has, in effect, gone into business selling things that don’t work, and completely recused themselves from ever having to accept blame. AT&T is like a little kid with a 25-cent lemonade stand who sells people an ice-cold glass of piss and then gives them the finger when they ask for their quarter back.

I’d like my $43.26 back, please.

Regards,
Evan LeVine
“A sophisticated man”

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