Cingular Joys

Yesterday I switched from my beloved T-mobile phone to my family's Cingular plan, to reduce my expenses. I had been with T-mobile for about 2 years and Catherine Zeta-Jones had not seen fit to call me, so I decided to give up hope. I had no idea what I was getting into.
When I signed up for my T-Mobile phone, the purchase of a new phone and the contract signing/activation took about 15 minutes. It was also handled by a moderately attractive blond girl who later called repeatedly to "test" my phone.
Upon entering the Cingular store, I was greeted by several on-the-edge-of-middle-aged Cuban men, which are below stingrays on the dateable list for me, along with one of my ex-girlfriends.
Said Cubans were helpful in selecting a phone by bringing me the one I demanded, but in adding me to the family plan we struck a problem. A two-hour problem.
First, the computers stop working, which is ironic because that's all these people are qualified to do in the realm of cellular-phone technology, surf Cingular's web site. So they stood around all fish-out-of-water like, until our sales rep decided to phone it in. He carries on a heaated yet pointlless discussion with someone at Cingular that sounded like this from our end:

Steve (our sales zombie): The number I'm trying to connect is 786-302-XXXX, and the computers won't let me.
Steve: The zip code is 33157.
Steve: No, it's 786.
Steve: Three, Three, ONE, five, seven.
Steve: Yes that other number is the originator of the plan.
Steve: No, the OTHER number.
Steve: My password is ZL09
Steve: NO! The number is 786-302-XXXX.

Steve: They hung up.

And so on for 2 hours.
After a bit of real progess, the cordless phone Steve was using died, and we were forced to start over.
Sporadically during the wait, Steve would muster a bit of salemanship and try to discuss the new features of my phone with me. I had purchased a motorola v180, which is dirt cheap and as close to my old t720 as I could possibly get, which I liked immensely. He was telling me that it was a tri-band world phone when I said to my family members out loud, "I wonder if these people have ever seen a stress-induced homicide."
Steve went back to his phone.
Another sales-rep, we'll call him "Jerry", appeared to be suffering from an allergic reaction to something. His face was red, and he appeared to have been crying for several hours. I decided to stick with Steve.

Eventually, we successfully connected my phone and I received a belt-clip for my 2-hours. The blond chick at T-mobile gave me a belt-clip for walking into the store. Oh well, it's for the best, and now Catherine Zeta-Jones will know what she missed out on by not calling me when she had the chance.