So, after being assured they understood the terms correctly, the couple said yes.
“We trusted him,” said Kahn, 73, who lives in Peabody.
The salesman said they would get the discounts in credits spread out over 24 months. But when their first statement arrived a month later, there were no credits. When Kahn called the salesman, he said the credits would show up on the next statement.
But they didn’t, and Kahn returned to the T-Mobile kiosk. The salesman hemmed and hawed and finally said Kahn had to talk to a manager, Kahn said.
By Kahn’s account, the manager tried to change the deal by lowering the discounts on each phone from $400 to $150. Kahn said no. The manager offered to cancel the sale and give back their phones, but Kahn persisted.
The manager finally said the only way Kahn could get $400 discounts on the phones was to upgrade their service plan by $40 a month for two years, Kahn said. But that would mean paying an extra $960 for discounts totaling $800.
“We told the manager we strongly felt we were misled,” Kahn told me. “The manager said there was nothing more he could do, and that was the end of our conversation.”
No apology, no explanation, no other offers.
The resolution: I wrote an email to T-Mobile entitled “apparent T-Mobile bait and switch,” explaining what happened at Costco and asking the company to “give the Kahns the deal they agreed to.”
Within a couple of hours, T-Mobile called Kahn and gave him the promised deal. The T-Mobile representative who called “was very gracious and apologetic,” Kahn told me.
The T-Mobile representative also told Kahn that he would contact the salesman and manager to express his concerns.
The takeaway: I have had several similar experiences with AT&T, my mobile phone carrier. Most recently, when my wife upgraded her phone, AT&T slipped in a new $10 monthly fee for a future upgrade option we didn’t ask for or know anything about. It seemed brazen and intentional. To get it removed required enormous effort, way out of proportion to the size of the fee. It felt like the full weight of AT&T was holding that $10 fee in place, and I had to be in top form to break it free. (I did not use my Globe position as clout.)
Some industries make it really tough for consumers to navigate. They have so many plans and options and special offers that your head is spinning. Mobile phone and cable companies may be the worst. And I don’t think the sketchy practices some salespeople engage in are a big surprise to upper management when they are called out.
When dealing with such companies you really have to be an active and alert negotiator for yourself.
Last thing: Always get it in writing. No matter how sincere the salesperson seems.
State “rounds up” when calculating your excise tax
I’m sure the state Department of Revenue is capable of calculating the amount you owe in automobile excise tax precisely to the day you put your new car or truck on the road.
But that’s not how it’s done. The state “rounds up” to charge for a full month, no matter what day of the month you registered your new vehicle. It’s a money grab and almost certainly not the most egregious one the state engages in.
A reader described this to me as his “pet peeve.” He registered his new $31,600 Hyundai Tucson Hybrid on Sept. 28, meaning he owned it only three days in September, which would have come out to a tax levy of $6.49 for those days — if the tax were levied on a per-day basis.
Instead, he got whacked for all 30 days in September, $64.93. In effect, he made a $58.44 “gift” to the state for those days in the month when he didn’t even own the vehicle. (Keep in mind the more expensive the vehicle, the higher the excise tax, and thus, the larger the gift due to rounding up.)
“I know it’s not the most pressing issue facing the state, but it does seem, strictly speaking, unfair,” I wrote to the DOR.
The DOR said the way it calculates excise taxes was established by the Legislature and quoted the state law. Fair enough. But it’s still OK to feel abused by this small but real fiscal overreach. Lawmakers, take note.
Who’s that calling in the middle of the night?
A reader made me laugh with this story. One afternoon last week, he called the Social Security Administration’s 1-800 telephone number to discuss an issue involving his elderly mother and waited on hold for more than two hours before finally opting for a callback. Many hours later that night, when he was fast asleep, you guessed it, the phone rang.
“By the time I got to it, the caller was gone, but he did leave a voicemail,” the reader told me.
“Hi, this is Ray from SSA returning your call,” the voicemail said. “So sorry we missed you — please call back if you need to contact us.”
It was 12:38 a.m.
Ah, thanks, Ray. But maybe next time, consider what time you’re calling? (The SSA must be really backed up.)
The next day, the reader called back and got the help he needed.
Feedback from previous column
Readers reacted to the plight of a Swampscott couple trying to unload their timeshare to avoid paying future maintenance fees that top $1,000 a year.
Timeshare contracts often make it difficult to get out of them even when the owner is willing to give their interest back to the development owner with no money changing hands.
Some owners resort to hiring a so-called “exit broker” to help them get rid of their interest. But beware. One reader told me he paid a smooth-talking exit broker $4,000 upfront to begin looking for a buyer for his Manhattan timeshare and another $3,000 when the broker said he had found a buyer.
“At that point, the broker disappeared,” the reader said.
Got a problem? Send your consumer issue to sean.murphy@globe.com. Follow him @spmurphyboston.
