Maria Raybould, a 56-year-old widow from Wales, has come to a tragic realization that should also serve as a chilling lesson in customer service. Procedurally speaking, Raybould says, it was easier to bury her late husband than to cancel his T-Mobile cell phone contract.
After David, 57, had died of cancer, T-Mobile tried to stick Raybould with cancellation fees, and bill collectors repeatedly harassed her seeking payment, she told the Telegraph.
Pushed to her limit, Raybould did the unthinkable: she showed up at her local T-Mobile store with an urn full of David’s ashes, a death certificate and the funeral bills. “I lost it in the shop,” she says. “I gave them 20 minutes to sort it out. I went outside and had a panic attack.”
Though the store’s managers assured Raybould that they would stop the contract, she continued to receive letters demanding either $200 in unpaid bills or a cancellation fee. “I've had texts since then asking if David wanted to pay an extra $4 for broadband and letters saying that bailiffs would be coming," she said.
While death in our digital age has introduced a host of unfamiliar complications, such an oversight not only feels like a total no-brainer, but paints a particularly soulless picture of T-Mobile’s customer service outfit.
"We apologize to Mrs. Raybould for any distress caused at this difficult time,” a spokesman told the Telegraph, adding that the mishap had occurred due to delays in its automated system. “We can confirm that the account has been closed and the balance cleared."