More Better

In a flash of maturity one recent Saturday afternoon, I called Time Warner to remove Showtime and add HBO.  Everyone I know had been telling me that I would like the show Girls, and frankly, they were right.  Even Netflix knows that I tend to like Quirky TV Shows Featuring a Strong Female Lead.  For now, Girls would have to replace the relationship that I had been having with Dramatic Series Featuring Mysterious, Brooding Male Lead Who Has Secrets, One of those Secrets Having Something to Do with Killing People (i.e. Dexter and Homeland). 

I didn’t have to wait long before someone picked up the phone over at Time Warner, and I only got redirected to the main menu and then another person just once.  It was a pretty good start.  When the associate asked how she could help me, I explained the straightforward transaction that needed to take place.  She was so thrilled to add HBO for me that I almost felt happy for her.  Would she be as pumped to remove Showtime?  It wasn’t yet time to find out. 

Masterfully, she segued right into some additional getting-to-know-you chat.  She was curious to know how I use my Time Warner Internet service at home.  The game has to be played, so I humored her.  “I mostly use it for browsing.  I sometimes work from home.”  That was my exact answer, to which she responded, “Because you use the Internet to stream movies, let me tell you about our new Turbo Internet service.”  Her question, of course, was merely a formality.  She had my data right in front of her.  Still, I participated.  “No, thank you.” 

She continued to show an interest in me, with the next line of questioning involving my background and familiarity with land lines.  “My boyfriend and I use our cell phones at home.”  “Do you have a fax machine?  You mentioned that you work from home.”  God.  “No, I don’t have a fax machine.” 

Mercifully, we eventually reached the end of her list of services to pitch.  But what of removing Showtime, new friend?  She had accidentally jumped right to informing me of the new monthly charges with the addition of HBO.  “We actually still need to remove Showtime,” I reminded her.  And then she asked, "Have you seen Shameless?”  Surely she didn’t really think that we were close girlfriends gabbing on the phone on a Saturday afternoon about our favorite shows.  I was so surprised that I sort of laughed.  “No, I’ve never seen it.”  And then she said, “You should try watching it!  It’s just like Dexter!” 

She was enthusiastic, because the data clearly showed her that I am a Dexter-lover, and she must have felt like she won big with this personal connection.  I was mad.  Perhaps if this was 1994 and I was visiting my local Blockbuster, I might not feel as violated if a sales person were to ask me about my personal preferences for entertainment.  In modern times, even, I have no problem with Netflix using my data to steer me in the right direction when I’m overwhelmed and in need of a programming shaman.  But I don’t want this icky hybrid situation where my data is being used by a human in an attempt to get me to do things that I don’t want to do.  When is it appropriate to reference this data, and when is it not?  I can only imagine what my conversation would have been like if I had called to cancel Hustler HD On Demand.  “Have you seen Gooey International Creampies #5?  It’s just like Barely Legal: As Tight as a Teen!”