Verizon Flunks 5th Grade English (And Customer Care)

un·lim·it·ed (/ˌənˈlimidəd/)

Adjective: not limited or restricted in terms of number, quantity, or extent

In this second in our series about how Verizon is the worst-run company in the known universe, it’s time to get into their pitiful lack of understanding of basic English words. If I asked you whether the word “unlimited” implied limits of some kind, you would probably say no, right? Unlimited means without limited. Ah, but not to Verizon.

Yesterday, when I was in urgent need of my trusty WiFi Hotspot on my iPhone, a service I had used many times in the past, I discovered that it had disappeared from the settings menu. (Classy of them not to let me know about dropping the feature, and all…) After spending a quick half hour standing around in the COVID air in the Apple store trying to figure out where the hotspot had gone, the nice young man there said he didn’t know why it was missing. He suggested I contact my carrier.

I drove to the Verizon store nearby. It was locked. They had a loose-leaf sheet taped to the door with the words “out for lunch” scrawled in ballpoint pen. Classy. Good for the global brand image. It was 6PM. I went home and called the Verizon customer support line. They gave me two choices: use the digital assistant or hang up.

I need to learn my proper place in the world. The Verizon I-don’t-give-a-s#$%t-about-the-little-people monopoly will set me straight.

I tried to communicate with the digital assistant, though it would have been a lot easier to speak with a human being. I evidently don’t rate that level of service for my $270 a month. I could only do text chat. I need to learn my proper place in the world. The Verizon I-don’t-give-a-s#$%t-about-the-little-people monopoly will set me straight.

Who am I to protest having my pocket picked by a company that lies to me about the meaning of “unlimited”?

That was how I learned that my unlimited data plan no longer included the hotspot. The unlimited plan had limits. How silly of me to think otherwise. It turned out I needed an “unlimited plus” plan of some kind, which cost another $20 a month. I signed right up. Who am I to protest having my pocket picked by a company that lies to me about the meaning of “unlimited”? If only they had a 5th grader working there. She could have told Hans Vestberg, CEO of Verizon Wireless, what unlimited actually means.