So on the card is a sticker, overflowing with instructions and red text and dire warnings. Basically, you call the number. Right, easy enough. But attached to the paper on which the card was delivered unto me is a little postcard, which I am told I must fill out and return when I receive the card (and not, presumably, before I receive the card). On this card are three boxes: check either of the first two boxes and you'll be enrolled in their "credit insurance protection" scheme, whereby you pay the company more money, and they won't break as many bones if you miss a payment or two. Or they postpone the breakings. That's the gist of it, anyway. The third box, the one without the bold, red font, reads, "No, I waive my right to enroll in credit protection." Uh, "I waive my right"? Now that certainly sounds threatening. Hell, I certainly don't want to waive any of my rights! How the hell is it a "right" when I have to pay them for it? That's a service, not a right, and a dubious one, at that. I'm not sure what happens if I don't "waive my right" and then send them the damn postcard, but I'll bet I'd be enrolled automatically. I'm sure they'd do that for me, rather than take it upon themselves to waive any of my rights. Bastards. At least the card doesn't require postage, although that surprised me.
So, with the annoying postcard filled out and ready to be mailed (and at least one right waived right off the bat), I move to complete Task #2, the phone call. Hey, at least it's an 800 number, so I'm not paying...wait, who am I kidding? Of course I'm paying for it, and for the card's postage. And the paper the card came on, the envelope it came in, the postage for that envelope...
So, anyway, I dial the number. Then, as I'm using a touch-tone phone, I press 1, as instructed. (What does it do if you have a rotary phone? Mock you? I would. How likely is it that anyone who owns a rotary phone would be dealing with a credit card, anyway? About as likely as someone who owning both a satellite dish and a working butter churn.) Then it asks for my account number, which, yes, would really suck if you were using a rotary phone. That done..."While we're verifying receipt of your card..." thus begins another spiel. "Identity theft is on the rise! Someone could be using your name to establish credit without your knowledge!" Sure, it could happen. "To keep informed about your credit history and prevent identity theft, let us send you a complimentary copy of your credit report..." blah blah "view your credit points" blah blah "unauthorized transactions" blah blah "one month free" blah "press 1 if you do not want to participate."
I stab the 1 button. That fear-mongering advertisement seemed to go on for quite a while, so even if the company is using a database coded in BASIC, they've surely accessed my account by now...
And then it begins again. "We're sorry that you aren't interested, but we feel that this is a very valuable service, so please consider taking us up on our free offer..." No, you buttmonkeys want me to give you more of my money for a service that I have absolutely no use for, that in all likelihood will never be of any use to me, and by giving me a "free trial" you hope that apathy and inertia will keep me from canceling the service once it cranks up to $39.95 a month, or whatever, because if I do want to cancel it you'll make me fill out the "Request to Cancel Valuable, Life-Saving Service/Waiver of All Known Rights, Form 3799-a5589", which must be obtained at your customer service center in Kuala Lumpur and then hand-delivered to the Service Cancellation Office on Ganymede.
"Press 1 if you are certain that you do not want to participate." *BEEP* THERE, I pressed it, AGAIN, you soul-sucking...
"Receipt of your card has been confirmed." *Click*
Right, that's it. I have a small amount to pay off on this card, and then it's gone. Screw them. Screw them for forcing me to waste my time (ok, maybe only two minutes) and pissing me off (a much worse crime) just to "verify receipt of my card." Why bother? As if someone couldn't steal my card from my mailbox and call the number? Or does the company know that a thief wouldn't sit through a repeated advertisement?
Of course, I can just imagine what I'd have to go through to actually cancel the card. "Press 1 to cancel the card...Are you sure that you want to cancel this highly valuable credit card? If so, press 1...Maybe you'd like to try our credit report service, instead? If not, press 1...We're sorry that you want to cancel your credit card. To cancel the card, please enter the 83-digit cancellation code that was included in a random piece of mail that we sent you three years ago. A new cancellation code can be obtained from our Card Cancellation Office, conveniently located in the Marianas Trench..."