On Real Life Inside the Sprint Tent

I keep getting emails from Sprint; they’re trying like champs to get me to switch my cell service to them, showing me all of the wonderful things that I can get when I switch to their network: reduced rates, free phones, freedom to roam the country unencumbered by data overages, slow network speeds, and/or a common existence. They have paraded people in front of me who have switched and who are loving life, looking beautiful and rested and connected to all of humanity.

Here’s the thing: I’m already a customer of Sprint.  And while it’s not bad, I have to say I’m getting none of these incredible benefits. I’m not even eligible for these amazing new items or programs because I’m already a customer! I had to PAY for my phone, for crying out loud. Where’s my free phone?!  Where’s my rested, beautiful face, Sprint?!!

Maybe it’s the bitterness talking, but this situation with Sprint is much like I imagine circus life must have been like back in the early 1900’s: some well-dressed, freshly-bathed carny in a top hat would lure you into the fold with promise of a good wage, hot meals, unlimited peanuts, fresh air, and adventure on the open rail, pulling back the tent flap ever-so-slightly to give you a glimpse of the party waiting inside. Two months later, you’re shoveling elephant manure, eating cold goulash, and dodging increasingly uncomfortable advances from the bearded lady. It’s ludicrous!


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