Bit of a low-key update today, Sprintfans — as the company has merely perplexed me in the last couple of days, rather than driven me to homicidal fury.

Yesterday afternoon a robot called. My phone rang, and when I picked it up an automated lady imperiously informed me that Sprint was going to reimburse me $99 (for the first month’s rental on the phone they never sent, I assume), and I’d be receiving a cheque in 10-15 days. Thus having spoken, the robot lady rang off.

This morning I received a call from a human in Customer Service, in response to a gloriously arsey email I’d sent them via their Web site. According to the information on his screen, this gentleman said, my account has indeed been closed for fraud (grrrr), and is further showing that it has been “adjusted” -  and therefore there was nothing else he could credit back to me. I said I knew about the $99 and asked him about the cost of the phone – as I know there’s been no return of that to my bank account. He could see that money having been taken from me, he said, but there was no record of whether it had or would be returned, and no way for him to access that information. He advised me to get in touch with my bank to get them to dispute the payment for the phone.

I asked if he was serious – that I had to enter into a legal dispute with Sprint to get money back for a phone they freely admit they never sent. He said yes, and offered to put me through to Fraud to discuss the matter further. I’ve heard a rumour that if you talk to Sprint Fraud Management more than one hundred times in a calendar month there’s some kind of prize, so I thought what the hell, let’s go through it again. He put me through. After a few minutes on hold, a recorded announcement told me the entire Fraud department was closed for a training session. I can only assume this was either a brainstorm for new ways to make my life annoying, or perhaps a congratulatory lunch for what they’ve already achieved in that regard. I’m not going to call them back this week. I’d get more sense from screaming at a piece of driftwood.

Oh, and then a few hours later, the same robot lady as yesterday called to tell me the same thing again – they’re sending me a $99 cheque, and it will be with me in 10-15 days.

I’m evidently living in some Ray Bradbury story about the future, where mankind has left Earth behind for new adventures on distant planets, and the little Sprint droid that got left behind keeps ringing the same number with the same message. I’d like to ask it about the $467.98 for the phone, but I don’t want to complicate its mission, or freak it out. Maybe it’ll call me again tomorrow. I hope so.

I don’t want it to be lonely.