Dealing with your "customer service" system is akin to the punishment of Prometheus, wherein every day my liver is ripped out and eaten by eagles, only to have it grow back overnight to be ripped out again. However, I would in no way describe your service to be as useful as Prometheus' gift of fire to mankind.
Just thinking of calling 1-800-COMCAST fills me with vitriol and hate. Before I even dial the numbers my blood pressure has risen to hypertensive levels; I am primed for spitting, frothing rage.
Your mechanical phone system is maniacal in its design. I congratulate you on your truly evil and diabolical achievements. I don't have the scientific data yet, but I suspect you have contributed significantly in the nation-wide rise in diagnosable mental illness, including depression, suicide, and that one that compels people to eat dirt and nails.
In fact, after calling your phone number and being told via electronic voice to call the very same number I had called and then was disconnected from literally 7 times, I became convinced that there was no God, as a loving and omnipresent deity could not possibly allow a company as wretched and unholy as yours to exist.
The painful process of dealing with your company is not isolated solely to telephonic implements. No, you have found a new and perverted way to slowly boil the souls of your customers (and, God forbid, potential customers) in oil. Your web chat function, which I attempted to use to increase my service and pay you more money, mind you, made me long for the days of your impenetrable phone systems. It took almost two hours for the representative to give me the information I wanted, which was only how much it would cost to have more cable, and then to arrange for that to happen.
In an entirely predictable turn of events, I have now cancelled that additional service. Other companies might wonder why I would do that so soon, as I'd only increased the service in the last month. Comcast, I'm sure, has absolutely no interest in my reasoning, but I'm going to tell you anyway, as my impotence in the matter has left me grappling emotionally for any outlet I can find.
I have come to the conclusion that your corrupt and villainous company is only propped up by a combination of the government's lack of enforcement of anti-trust laws and the personal blessing of Satan, the Prince of Darkness.
In addition, the services you do provide can only be described as the least-terrible option, in that they only occasionally function as advertised. Or perhaps they are functioning exactly as intended, and you merely have more depraved plans than I had originally imagined.
Why do you treat your customers so sadistically? I realize that we are simply a means to raise the stock price so your executives and investors can reap the benefit of my ongoing suffering, through subscription numbers and mergers with other loathsome companies to become one, giant, venomous machine. But does it not enter into your hearts to have pity on those of us left to endure the odium of your deeds? I see it cannot; your hearts are made of molding, rotting meat that cannot experience shame or remorse.
Indeed, your company has become such an anathema, that the only further business plan I can imagine you have is to take up killing babies and children in dark rituals to rip a dimensional hole in space and time that will engulf the world in the cold silence of the void, and will finally end our suffering.