Jim
RVF Supporter
- Joined
- Dec 18, 2019
- Messages
- 4,507
- Location
- North Carolina
- RV Year
- 2020
- RV Make
- Newmar
- RV Model
- Essex 4543
- RV Length
- 45
- Chassis
- Spartan
- Engine
- Cummins / I6 Diesel Pusher 605HP
- TOW/TOAD
- 2016 Jeep Rubicon
- Fulltimer
- No
Fresh back from Talking Rock RV Park, my RV Starlink decided it was time to retire. I opened a support ticket. Days passed. Nothing. I followed up. More days. still nothing. Another follow-up. At this point, I was basically arguing with myself on their help portal. Finally, I snapped and escorted the useless space-age Frisbee to the dumpster, where it was quickly swallowed by an RV park’s worth of Labor Day leftovers.
Before sealing its digital fate, I updated my support ticket one last time: “Cancel my account, stop the auto-drafts, and I’m moving on.” By “moving on,” of course, I meant ordering another Starlink, because let’s face it, there’s no other game in town. I just didn’t want to say that, right? So, I grumbled my way through placing a fresh order.
Then, at 7:45 the next night, support finally woke up:
“Sorry for the negative experience. We’re sending you a free upgrade to the newest Starlink kit and two months of credits. Just return the old unit.”
Naturally, it was about 12 hours too late to cancel my latest order, but free is free, so I jumped at it. There was, however, one small condition: they wanted the old unit back! The same old unit currently marinating beneath half a park’s worth of garbage, scheduled to ship out to the landfill tomorrow.
So at 8:00 the following morning, I was in the dumpster, rake in hand, wading through Mount Trashmore in search of a corpse, namely, my dead satellite dish and accessories. Trish found it all “hilariously ironic”, since, in her words, “this is the only thing you’ve ever actually thrown away”. And of course, it’s the only thing I had to go back in and fetch. Lesson learned, it will never happen again!
Right now, I’ve got mixed feelings about Starlink. Their support is almost always inadequate, surprising for a company owned by the richest man in the world. On the flip side, when they finally realize they’ve dropped the ball, they do step up and make it right, or at least as right as they can.
But yesterday, the new dishes arrived. And as I sat there surrounded by my shiny digital-beaming plastic squares, it hit me: something truly absurd had taken place. Somewhere, probably in the basement of their grandmothers house, a pair of glassy-eyed support kids, and likely mid-joint, had managed to coax me into a garbage can to dig through half-eaten rib bones, beer cans, and every other scrap of holiday refuse, all so I could complete the acquisition of a new Starlink dish, worth about $150 on sale.
Looking back, I’m not sure what stinks worse, the dumpster or the fact I thought $150 was worth the dive. Turns out my dignity comes cheaper than I thought.
Before sealing its digital fate, I updated my support ticket one last time: “Cancel my account, stop the auto-drafts, and I’m moving on.” By “moving on,” of course, I meant ordering another Starlink, because let’s face it, there’s no other game in town. I just didn’t want to say that, right? So, I grumbled my way through placing a fresh order.
Then, at 7:45 the next night, support finally woke up:
“Sorry for the negative experience. We’re sending you a free upgrade to the newest Starlink kit and two months of credits. Just return the old unit.”
Naturally, it was about 12 hours too late to cancel my latest order, but free is free, so I jumped at it. There was, however, one small condition: they wanted the old unit back! The same old unit currently marinating beneath half a park’s worth of garbage, scheduled to ship out to the landfill tomorrow.
So at 8:00 the following morning, I was in the dumpster, rake in hand, wading through Mount Trashmore in search of a corpse, namely, my dead satellite dish and accessories. Trish found it all “hilariously ironic”, since, in her words, “this is the only thing you’ve ever actually thrown away”. And of course, it’s the only thing I had to go back in and fetch. Lesson learned, it will never happen again!
Right now, I’ve got mixed feelings about Starlink. Their support is almost always inadequate, surprising for a company owned by the richest man in the world. On the flip side, when they finally realize they’ve dropped the ball, they do step up and make it right, or at least as right as they can.
But yesterday, the new dishes arrived. And as I sat there surrounded by my shiny digital-beaming plastic squares, it hit me: something truly absurd had taken place. Somewhere, probably in the basement of their grandmothers house, a pair of glassy-eyed support kids, and likely mid-joint, had managed to coax me into a garbage can to dig through half-eaten rib bones, beer cans, and every other scrap of holiday refuse, all so I could complete the acquisition of a new Starlink dish, worth about $150 on sale.
Looking back, I’m not sure what stinks worse, the dumpster or the fact I thought $150 was worth the dive. Turns out my dignity comes cheaper than I thought.