I Want In On That Sprint Settlement

Sprint was my first nightmare of a cell phone provider.  I used to stand in line at the 42nd street PCS store like once a week, with dozens of other angries, trying to get help with the bill or service, or whatever.

To kill time and not someone I’d call their tech department, hoping for a resolution that never came. What would come, though, is a charge for the call on my next bill.  Yes, Sprint would charge minutes for the call and justified it by saying the in-store phones were free to use.  To me, they were like a corporate monster that had you over a barrel and were going to milk every bit while it was still early in the game without many rules.

That store was a chaotic mess of people yelling at employees and complaining to each other.  There was like a comradeship built around a mutual hate for Sprint. By the time you’d get to the window the staff would be even more angry than the customers so it was impossible to get help. It was the weirdest thing. I never saw anything like it, then or since.

One time I was trying to swap out a defective phone, and they didn’t have even a loaner for me, and I was like, ‘what am I supposed to do, Sprint sold me this phone’, and the girl screamed at me, “I ain’t Sprint!” haha. For a while it was a joke among my friends, whenever anyone had a complaint about anything the response would be “I ain’t Sprint!”, which doesn’t go over too well with boyfriends. You have to get your material somewhere.

I never got satisfaction at the Sprint PCS store on 42nd Street west side. Never.

In 2003, had I not left the country, Sprint probably would have driven me into therapy. I skipped out on my ending balance of $200+ because I was so pissed. I finally did pay it this year.

In London, on the other hand, I had a great mobile experience in London. Sprint could learn a lot from Virgin Mobile in London.

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