Where’s the Trump Phone? We’re going to keep talking about it every week. While we wait, we tried to order a Trump Mobile SIM card so we can test the service on a different device. Here’s how that went.
Signing up for Trump Mobile’s wireless service felt a little like engaging in espionage.
Let’s say I don’t fully trust the Trump Organization to be great stewards of my credit card information, so I used a virtual number provided by my bank. Once I’d handed over the virtual money, I got this message: “Thank you for your order of a Physical SIM, we’ll ship next business day via First Class USPS mail, no separate tracking number will be sent.” Just what I was looking for with my wireless service: a sense of mystery! Fast-forward two weeks, and that SIM card is still on its way. My relationship with Trump Mobile’s wireless service? Off to a rocky start. I’d be annoyed about it — if customer service hadn’t been so gosh dang nice.
This whole affair might not have dragged on so long if I hadn’t been traveling. I signed up for the service on a Thursday, left for a short work trip the following Tuesday, and got back home Thursday. It was a little surprising that the SIM hadn’t turned up by then, but I gave it the weekend before I started trying to track it down. By Monday afternoon, I figured it was high time to call customer service. I called around 5pm PT — within the 8AM to 8PM CT hours listed on the website, but they were in fact closed for the day.
I called around 5pm PT — within the 8AM to 8PM CT hours listed on the website, but they were in fact closed for the day
I got in touch with someone the following day, and she said my SIM card should have arrived by then. She escalated my case, and though she couldn’t tell me when I should expect to hear from someone about the issue, she added, “You have a great day, sweetheart” as I hung up. Well, that was nice, at least. But at this point, I’d shelled out $51.99 for a service I couldn’t use and was feeling salty about it.
The email from [email protected] arrived later that afternoon, saying that my SIM was being shipped out via two-day FedEx. “Once you receive it and get your phone activated, please let me know so I can adjust your start date,” the message went on, initialed by “Care Team,kh.” The next day, an email came through from FedEx with details about my package arriving from Liberty Mobile — the MVNO behind Trump Mobile. Sure enough, it’s on track for delivery by the end of this week.
Without any prompting, “kh” followed up yesterday to let me know the package was arriving soon, and that they’d be refunding my payment. When I receive the SIM card, I will be able to log in, activate it, and then we’ll “start from scratch,” billing-wise. That’s awfully considerate — I didn’t even have to scream “TALK TO A REPRESENTATIVE” into my phone. The refund came through the same day, at which point I felt way less salty.
My interactions with customer care have felt less like yelling at a computer and more like I’m just emailing a guy
I should admit here that I signed up for the service under my work email. I don’t know if that has had any influence on my treatment, and in hindsight, I should have used something more anonymous. Again, I’m not super trusting of the company that sells steaks and condos to keep my personal email address under lock and key. I also emailed Trump Mobile’s media relations asking about the delayed SIM, but that was after “kh” had already arranged for the FedEx delivery.
Call me naive, but I kinda think that my email address giving me away as a member of the crooked, coastal media elite didn’t have anything to do with the treatment I got. That’s kinda what MVNOs are supposed to be good at, right? They don’t deal with the volume of customers of a Verizon or an AT&T, so it tracks that my interactions with customer care have felt less like yelling at a computer and more like I’m just emailing a guy. Or gal. Sorry to gender you, kh. Anyway, the real fun starts when my SIM shows up, which should be any minute now.
