If you’re wondering what that haze is around you this morning, I have a very simple explanation. It is not a mysterious fog; it’s the steam coming out of my ears.

I wrote a little while ago how I was not seeing eye to eye with my cell phone provider, and it’s now reached Cecil B. de Mille proportions.

In the last couple of weeks, I have reached the end of my rope with it. I sit in my house, within the city limits of Lee’s Summit. I don’t sit in my house in a remote cow pasture 20 miles from the nearest town. And yet I still fail to get calls on my cell phone, and if I dare to make a call to someone, I can guarantee you the call will fail.

I am paying $98 a month for the privilege of having said cell provider provide a non-service to me, and it is now officially going to stop. Oh, I can get a booster for the house – but I have to pay for it.

Say what, Earl? Let me get this straight. I have to pay you extra to give me the honor of actually receiving the service I am already – and have in the past paid through the nose for – so I can actually use the device you have assured me will receive the best possible connection in the whole world, which thus far has proved to be a monumental disappointment.

I have been on the phone to them for hours. I even went up to the store to get the “oh sorry, madam, we’re only a sales store, we can’t help you, you will have to go to a corporate store.” I went to the corporate store, where they did try to help, but the lovely Rebecca ended up as frustrated as I.

The advice from the manager was to call “retention” to threaten my cancelling my contract to see what reaction I would get.

I have discovered “retention” is their fancy schmancy way of saying “disconnection.”

I have written the script for my conversation with this department. I will tell them in no uncertain terms that they’d better play ball immediately if not sooner with me and provide me this booster for the house – and while they’re at it, one for the office where, guess what, that’s right, my phone doesn’t work there either.

The consequences otherwise will be dire.

As I will then totally stun them with my mathematical prowess and point out that if they fail to provide me with two devices at the cost of around $200, they will indeed lose out the $1,200 left on my contract, coupled with legal and court costs if they are so stupid as to try to sue me.

No court in the land would uphold their case, and, in the mighty words of Scarlett O’Hara, with a 21st Century half pike and twist:

As God is my witness, I will never use them again. So sue me.

Annie Dear lives in Lee’s Summit. Email her at anniedearkc@hotmail.com .