My stunning experience with HP/Compaq tech support

As I've mentioned, I bought a Compaq Presario 2500 laptop online. It was delivered about 10 days ago, and the setup was quick and easy, except for one thing: It wouldn't connect to my HP LaserJet printer.

Simple matter of downloading a printer driver, you'd think. Sure thing -- but every time I went to the HP support website and tried to download a driver, the operation timed out before the download began. So after several days of trying that, I just decided to call Compaq tech support.

Oy vey.

I began at exactly 4:00 p.m. PDT today, starting with the 800 number in the leaflet that came with the laptop. Here's what happened.

4:00 p.m. -- I place the call to 1-800-652-6672. An automated system asks me to state my product model name and number. Various ringing and clicking follows, then an automated voice asks me to hold, and hold music starts.

4:07 p.m. -- I talk to my first human. Speaking in a heavy accent of unknown provenance, the person asks me my name and phone number and whether this is my first call to Compaq. Then they ask me what my problem is. When I say I'm having trouble connecting my new laptop to my printer, the person tells me they'll transfer me. I'm asked to hold. More music -- a lot of music.

4:25 p.m. -- A second person comes on the line and, in another heavy (but different) accent, repeats the questions about my name and phone number. When I describe my problem, they say I've been transferred to the wrong place. Hold please. More music. I'm getting really tired of that tune.

4:33 p.m. -- A third person comes on the line, speaking yet another heavy accent. Same questions. I describe my problem. Says I'm still in the wrong place.

I say, "Excuse me, but you're the third person I've been transferred to. Can't you make sure I'm going to be transferred to the right place?" The person says they're sorry, and hold please. More music -- a different tune, this time. Oddly, that makes me feel as if I'm getting somewhere. Silly me.

4:36 p.m. -- A woman comes on the line and says, "I'm the call supervisor. I'm very sorry your call has been misrouted." I say thank you. She asks me to state my problem again, and I do. She asks me to hold.

4:42 p.m. -- The fifth person comes on the line, this one with an American accent. I describe my problem once again.

"Oh," the guy says, "Your problem is that you've been telling them it's a Compaq problem. Really you need to talk to HP people. The Compaq people won't know what to do."

"Obviously," I say.

"I'll have to transfer you to the HP printer department," he says.

"Okay," I say, "but are you sure this is the last time?"

4:51 p.m. -- A sixth person comes on the line, another person with an American accent. I describe the problem one more time. (Oh, did I mention that every single person asks my name and phone number? And I give it to them every time.) Unfortunately, the sixth person is not the right person either.

I'm almost crying by this point. "Please make sure I end up in the right place this time," I plead.

4:57 p.m. -- A seventh person comes on the line. She says something about call rollover. "But you're the seventh person I've talked to!" I protest. "I've been getting transferred all over the world. I have a really simple problem."

"Unfortunately," she says, "it's after business hours. The HP printer people have gone home and won't be back until 6:00 a.m. Tuesday morning."

After several seconds of stunned silence, I finally stammer: "What time zone?!"

"Mountain."

And with that, I hang up.