Sorry about not writing up a preview yesterday. I was planning to, but most of my down time yesterday was spent embroiled in a bit of an internet controversy!!! (insert suspenseful music here)

It begins, bitches! LSU is all set to notch #1 of their 14 consecutive wins for the 2007 season as they head to Scott Field to take on Sly and the Family Croom.

Meantime, the Saints (kinda) will be facing the Miami Dolphins (kinda) in a light workout so that the coaches can tell all the guys they cut tomorrow that they had a shot.

Since there’s a conflict, I won’t be listening to the Saints on RealNetworks’ NFL Field Pass streaming audio tonight. And starting next week, I’ll be watching the Saints live on DirecTV’s Sunday Ticket. So once again I’m done with the Field Pass for this year, and this morning I had the pleasure of my annual phone call to Real to cancel.

If you’ve never done the Field Pass thing, you’re a very fortunate person. They’re more than happy to get you all signed up online, including accepting your credit card info and everything. Takes about two minutes to get subscribed. One of the easiest things you’ll ever do.

But wanna cancel? Please call 1-866-YOURE-FUCKED.

That’s right, “for security reasons” (no, seriously, they say that and expect you to believe it) you can’t cancel online. You’ve gotta pick up the phone, call the number, wait 10 minutes for the next available Indian phone jockey and try your damndest to resist the urge to stick a screwdriver in your throat as you attempt to navigate the “conversation” with whichever Indian phone jockey eventually picks up.

Look, let’s make on thing perfectly clear. I have absolutely no problem with anyone based on their race, religion, nationality, sexual persuasion, etc. etc. etc. All that good shit. What I have a problem with is trying to do business ON THE PHONE with a person whose speech is utterly incomprehensible. Here’s a partial transcript of the call:

Me: Hi. I’d like to cancel my NFL Field Pass subscription.

Her: Well sir, [babble babble babble] September 25th, and you can call back [babble babble babble] cancel.

Me: No, I don’t want to call back to cancel. I’m calling now to cancel.

Her: But sir, the service [babble babble babble] 25th, and you [babble babble babble] the great features of Real [babble babble babble] and call by the 25th and you will not be charged.

Me: Let me say this again. I am calling to cancel the service. I think that what you’re trying to tell me is that I’ve already paid through September 25th, so I should wait and cancel then. That is not what I want to do. I don’t care if the service is turned off now or next month. I’m done with it. I am calling to cancel now, and I do not want to have to call again.

Her: Sir, may I ask why [babble babble babble] cancel?

Me: Why am I cancelling? Because I’m done with the service. I only needed it for August. I will not be using it again until next August.

Her: But sir, the NFL regular season [babble babble babble] and the games will be much more interesting.

Me: I am well aware of the way the NFL works. Are you going to cancel my subscription, or do I need to speak with a manager?

Her: Please hold.

That’s a partial transcript, mind you. This went on for some ten minutes, with me struggling to decipher her every word at about a 20% rate of success. Finally she returns with a confirmation number, and tells me that I will receive an email confirmation of the cancellation.

And here is where, if I had it in me to just be a slightly bigger asshole than I am, perhaps society would benefit in some small way:

Her: Sir, may I ask if you are satisfied with the service you received today?

Me: *sigh* Yeah, I guess.

But hey, after all, it’s not her fault. She didn’t make the decision to disallow online cancellation for “security reasons.” It’s not her decision whether or not to read the hard sell script, it’a part of her job. It’s not her fault she doesn’t speak English well enough to be comprehensible over the phone, and yet they hired her to field phone calls for 40 hours a week. And no amount of bitching and moaning on my part is going to change a damn thing about how RealNetworks chooses to handle customer service.

So I suppose I’ll have to just be content with this:

Fuckmooks*!!! All of ‘em!!!

*Fuckmooks is a registered trademark of Ashley Morris

Guest color commentary time, bitches! Do your worst….