Why Data Plans Gotta be so Rude?
“Speeds reduced after 2GB” — T-Mobile, The Ruthless Gatekeeper of My Mobile Data
When my mobile data gets throttled, it feels like I've shit pants. My plans are ruined. I saunter along, never really getting where I need to go, and praying that nobody notices.
I don’t remember not having a mobile data plan or how things tasted back then. I was a helpless fool drifting through a mass of un-Yelped restaurants. Lost was also a thing that used to happen. I used to use the phrase I’m lost a lot, so I didn't venture out. I did things like eat at Cheddar’s Casual Cafe and go to taverns where movies were shown over chicken strips. Without the help of mobile apps, I was just a casual asshole eating chicken in a dark tavern. I want no part of that now.
That’s why I’m careful not to cross the two gigabyte threshold after which T-Mobile decides that I've accessed enough information, and cuts me off cold turkey. “We think you've had enough cold turkey,” they say. Only, they don’t admit to cutting me off, instead they dangle the phrase “reduced speeds” in front of me like a sarcastic sign on the edge of a steep cliff that reads dead end. It is a dead end indeed.
The phrase “reduced speeds” is an audacious understatement.
A webpage doesn't load piece by piece, the way logic would suggest. It lurks behind a veil until it’s completely finished dressing. And if you’re lucky, if it’s wearing just a two piece bathing suit, then maybe it’ll meet your browser’s time out threshold, and the veil will drop. Otherwise, fuck you, because it isn't ready yet, and this page doesn't compromise glam for brevity.
T-Mobile’s whole customer base is just a pitiful bunch of wallets paying for Unlimited Data and getting whatever Mr. T sees fit to allow them.
So, T-Mobile, gatekeeper of my data, what determines how much data is enough? And how dare you use the word unlimited?
2GB is roughly equal to 17 hours of non-HD video, 5,200 photos posted to Instagram, 82 hours of Pandora, or 2,000 web pages. And yet none of this is enough.
2,000 web pages sounds like an absurd amount that nobody who makes money at a job could ever reach. But it should be noted how many of those pages go unread, how many just serve as gateways to more important pages, and how many are just one out of a slideshow of fifteen ways to eat an avocado.
This month, I downloaded three apps and perused YouTube for a bit longer than usual outside of a WiFi connection, and I reached my plan threshold in just two weeks. I understand the size of the apps should have been taken into account beforehand, but you, Mr. T, should understand that you are playing God.
One day, I will come face to face with a fugitive, and I’ll think,
“this guy looks like a fugitive. I should verify that he is and then notify officials.”
But my internet will be so slow that by the time I can view the description and photo of said fugitive, he’s gone. Forever. This is the bed you've made, T-Mobile, a bed where fugitives run rampant, and I can’t even download three apps.
The only serious remedy for my anger is an upgrade. A shift from 2GB to 5 GB of 4G LTE. But who wins when I do this? Not me and the obligation I feel to take advantage of the internet I’ve purchased. I download a shit load of life-consuming apps, and never lift my head to acknowledge all the criminals around me. Not you, cell company, now with less bandwidth to ration out to your ever-growing legion of consumers. And then there’s the questionable fate of your souls. See? Nobody wins.
