The Good Customer

She wants to know if there’s a problem – if there’s anything she can do to make things right.

I tell her, no – I just need a change. I need more freedom.

She wants to know exactly why I’ve decided to end things.

I tell her it’s just what I said. No other reason.

But why, she asks, do I want to end my relationship with Shaw Cable? She says they wouldn’t want to lose me because I’ve been such a good customer.

By that I assume she means I’ve paid my bills on time for many years. It’s not like I’ve brought the company flowers or took it out for dinner.

In the end, I tell her that my mind is made up for now and I’m going to test out the new digital service I’ve had installed and then maybe I’ll re-think things later once I’ve had a chance to try out Telus TV and its freshly tarted up deal.

The eerie thing about all this is that it really does feel like the end of a relationship. And the comment that I’ve been a good customer gives me a brief, subtle feeling of satisfaction. Given all the blown romantic and platonic relationships I’ve had over the years, it’s nice to know that at least I’m a good person to relate to, corporation to consumer.

And I do feel, fleetingly, like I’m betraying a person, not a company. And it’s not as if I’m changing companies out of necessity, but simply because I want more options in terms of bundles and channel choices. But, then, how many times have I – have any of us – dumped or been dumped by someone because a better choice came along? And don’t we all bargain, try to be better, offer incentives for our lover to stay?

But what does being ‘better’ mean as a lover, or even as a friend or family member? Where’s the fine print defining the boundaries of the relationship? How many times can we forget to repay our loved ones before they send our hearts to an emotional collection agency?

Also, do we in fact have any real choices in our relationships? Don’t we simply like or love who we have no choice but to like or love? Some things can’t be bargained for.

So you see what I’m saying. Being a good customer is infinitely preferable to being a good lover, or friend, or son, or father. The rules are straightforward. And it is so easy to be a good customer. Pay your bills on time. Don’t make trouble. This is why capitalism will triumph over all our other piddly beliefs. It demands so very little of us – of who we are – and the payoffs may be small, but they are a sure thing, unlike the stubborn odds of finding reward from others in the Las Vegas of the heart. And there’s no fighting with anyone over the remote control on those long weekends when you find comfort in front of the flickering TV and in those faces that are always glowing when you walk into a room.