Back from the Dead
Cause of Death: ATT Tech Support
I think it all started with me staying in Moab. Moab is different from the types of towns I’ve stayed in on this trip. It’s packed with people from all over the world visiting some of the country’s best national parks and trying their hand at jeeping, side-by-side riding, hiking, and mountain biking. Neat place—but definitely bougie. Unlike Scipio, parking spaces were at a premium, and you could almost feel the Namaste in the air.
Since I knew I’d be in Moab, I thought I’d treat myself and stay in a slightly nicer hotel. It all went weird from there.
On Friday night, I rolled in late from Torrey and checked into a “Bougie Hotel for Adults Only.” I stayed the night, then waited for the AT&T store to open. I packed up and headed there without coffee or breakfast. I got there at 11 a.m.
The store manager, Jennifer, was chatting with a friend while waiting for customers. Jennifer was great. Over the next five hours, I saw many people drop in to say hi. I explained that I’d lost my phone, my wife had suspended the number, and I was eligible for an upgrade.
Dateline was playing on the store TV. Keith Morrison was in full suspense mode, talking about someone doing something horrible as we started the transaction.
About 30 minutes in, I got a new phone and waited for it to activate. That’s when Amber walked in. She was a single mom working remotely from Moab. Her daughter, the valedictorian of her high school, hopes to attend the University of Michigan. I mentioned my son went to Michigan State. Amber immediately held up her hand to show me where she was from in Michigan—a hand-map gesture every Michigander does instinctively. I’m from a square state. Our hands don’t work that way. I could get a Colorado map tattooed on my stomach and just lift up my shirt to point—but I’m pretty hairy, so that’s a no-go.
The phone wouldn’t activate because I couldn’t accept the terms and conditions. My wife, Kim, handles all our household admin and is the primary account holder. She was in Ohio for my nephew Nico’s graduation from Denison (Go Nico!). He’s headed to law school next—he’ll probably save the world. Kim was nice enough to pull over on her drive to the airport, and spent over 2 hours on the phone with us, and a separate person at ATT who provided equally ineffective customer service. She was working this on her end until she got on the plane.
I had my laptop, so I emailed Kim to see if she could help. Jennifer got on the phone with Sanjeev, AT&T’s international support guy. He kept asking the same questions over and over. Thankfully, Amber remembered most of the answers and would shout them out before I could. “His billing zip code is 94563! He already told you that.”
Amber wouldn’t leave and kept helping people who wandered into the store, offering better customer service than most paid employees. Larry came in multiple times trying to add a tablet to his account, but Jennifer was tied up. Amber chatted with him while he waited. Eventually, Jennifer brought out a bag of Doritos, and we shared it. I ran to the grocery store and returned Lunchables, a Starbucks coffee, and a Sprite. Amber didn’t want anything, but Jennifer looked grateful.
We got someone new on the phone, another support rep. She was annoyed we were on speakerphone because Amber and I kept chiming in to help Jennifer. She demanded to be taken off speaker or she’d hang up.
Eventually, we were told it would take 5–7 business days to resolve everything. I asked if I could get a temporary number, but since my account had been canceled, they’d need to verify my identity “through technical means.” Jennifer said, “He’s a real person—I’ve looked at two of his IDs.” Amber backed her up. The support rep was unimpressed. If you are ever in a situation where you say “I’m a real person!” emphatically over and over again, you probably need to exit the facility and get something to drink.
I paid Jennifer for staying 30 minutes after closing and gave Amber a little something for being the best unpaid employee AT&T has ever had. They’re both awesome. AT&T still sucks. I'd send them to the President's Club if I were at ATT. On second thought, they should be sent to Maui for a week away from ATT and its pack of fools that make front-line workers ’ lives hell.
Afterward, I went to a restaurant with outdoor seating. I passed a group all wearing Michigan State shirts and said, “Go Green.” They responded, “Go White!” and invited me to sit with them. My son went to Michigan State, so we had things to talk about. They were old college friends who got together annually for adventures. Each night, one is designated to “get out of hand.” The night before, one hit her head after a bit too much fun—she had the bruises to prove it.
Courtesy of MSU Girls 2025 Trip: I think they took this picture before the injury
During dinner, we noticed a group in a park across the street. A man and some high school kids—dressed like they were headed to a funeral—had a casket and a violin. It turned out to be a social experiment. They asked if anyone wanted to lie in the coffin for a minute. After five hours at the AT&T store, I felt dead, so I volunteered.
I said I only take my helmet off for baptisms, funerals, or when jets fly over at NASCAR races. They asked me to remove it anyway so the lid would close. While reclining, I raised my legs so two polite high schoolers could remove my boots. One told me they loved my unicycle. I told them, “Because of relativity, I’m 14 seconds into the future.” Sadly, I don’t know how to monetize that.
They gave me a rose to hold. As the violin played the theme from Ken Burns’ The Civil War, I was nearly ready to walk into the light when one of the Michigan ladies knocked on the lid. I bailed on eternity and popped out dramatically.
Another of the ladies—yes, the one with the bruised eye—got in next. I suspect she was the one who banged the lid. She just had that vibe.
Afterward, the students gathered around and prayed for me. The older man told me the group was from a local Christian school, and this was their outreach project. I thanked them and left with some pamphlets and a new outlook on coffins.
He has risen but he smells like death
The Moab AT&T store is closed on Sundays, so I headed to Grand Junction. On the way, I rode through one of the most beautiful stretches of the entire trip—canyon roads along the Colorado River that I’d driven many times with my dad but never really seen like this.
I passed through Cisco, UT, a semi-dystopian outpost of abandoned houses and scattered debris. In the middle of it all stood the Buzzard Belly General Store. I spent two hours there.
Jean, who runs the place with her husband, came from Wisconsin. She’s been running it for three years, and it’s amazing. There are dinosaur heads on the fence and two huge black metal gorillas—one with a sign saying not to touch if they’re hot. Makes sense.
When I walked in, Jean was bagging fake fingers—soap shaped like severed digits—into bags of three. I asked why three. She shrugged. “Three’s a prime number?” Maybe.
We took a picture together in front of the merch. I wish I’d had my camera—Jean’s a gem, and Cisco needs to be the setting for the next zombie apocalypse movie. Speaking of movies, Jean and I had a great, long talk about films and music. I asked her if she liked Harold and Maude. It turned out to be her favorite movie of all time.
I sat on the porch under the awning on some nice living room furniture and charged my unicycle. I was about to leave when a major hailstorm came through, followed by an incredible downpour. Jean came out to check and make sure I hadn’t left. I bet she would have gone out and gotten me if I had.
A family from New York drove up, and a man about my age came out and sat on one of the sculptural chairs. I asked him where they had been, and he said they’d just come from Moab. During our conversation, he brought up the coffin! I asked if he got in it, and he said it wasn’t his time.
Although the Border Inn Casino people were nice, I’d accelerate if I ever went by there again. Next time on the Utah/Colorado border, I will make a point of visiting Jean and the Bussard Belly General Store
One of the most fun places i visited
I ended the day with a Zoom call organized by my friend Skip with some of my closest friends from the Stanford program. These are the same folks from the “For No Good Reason” post. Not having a phone has been isolating—I couldn’t talk to my wife, get texts from friends, or take pictures of the funny and the beautiful. That call really made my day.