By Tabitha Engel

A rather unwelcomed recording greeted me after I punched the numbers for my prepaid phone card this week. The automated voice of a what seemed to be a very pleasant woman said that the Federal Communications Commission was reviewing prepaid phone card fees, then the pleasant sounding lady, who probably really sounds like Edith Bunker in real life, offered a phone number for me to call if I wanted to ask the folks in Washington to keep my rate low.

Do you suppose the FCC is bored these days? Or perhaps over-staffed? Or just really mean and hateful? For years, I have enjoyed a very competitively priced phone card that has allowed me to discontinue my long distance calling plan. It is with glee that I inform long-distance plan telemarketers that I do not choose to switch my long distance, as I do not have long distance.

«How can this be, Tabbeethie Ongalea?» they predictably ask. «Are you mad, woman? Of course you need a long distance plan!»

«No, my friend. I do not, as a prepaid card suits my needs just fine with a real swell rate and no hidden fees,» I explain.

Throughout my experience, I have had little to no luck with phone companies, whether we’re talking local or long distance. The people hired to offer customer service never seem to have enough authority to actually serve the customer and they seldom know who can. The inexplicable fees and taxes that show up on my local bill alone are enough to double the original price of the service.

For instance, why do I need both an Illinois Universal Service Fee and a Federal Universal Service Fee? Shouldn’t one universal fee be enough for a single phone customer to be entitled to local service within the universe? All I want to know is who has first dibs on the universe? Springfield or the Feds?

In addition to the normal state tax, there are also several variations of «Excise Tax» listed on my bill under surcharges. I wasn’t even sure what an excise tax was, so I looked up the word excise in my Webster’s Dictionary. Under «Excise,» it read «a tax or duty on the manufacture, sale or consumption of various commodities within a country.»

So basically, it’s a sales tax on your phone service. What I can’t figure out is if there is already a .10 percent state tax listed on my bill, which I figured to be a form of sales tax, what the heck is the Illinois Telecom Excise Tax? Perhaps one tax is for the sale of the service, and the other tax is for the consumption of the service. Or perhaps one tax is for phone customers who inhale oxygen and the other tax is for phone customers who exhale carbon dioxide.

On top of the seven regularly appearing surcharges on my local phone bill, there are also pro-rated charges for each call I make, as well as an «Interstate Access Charge» of $6.50. Now remember, I’m already paying the universe each month to use my phone, so one would think that the universe would include interstate access as well. Apparently, these interstate hooligans have not yet learned the lesson that there is no «I» in «team.»

So back to my currently dilemma. The only aspect of my telecommunication activity that I find satisfying is that of my pre-paid long distance. I can’t see how the pleasant woman who is the voice of the pre-paid card company can keep her cool as she notifies caller after caller that the FCC is looking into increasing pre-paid card rates. It’s only a matter of time before people begin stockpiling their pre-paid minutes and a crisis emerges from a pre-paid minute shortage. Then what, FCC? Will you creep into our minute banks while we sleep and reduce the per-unit value of those precious 60 seconds, forcing use to revert back to the days of tin cans and string?

Shame on you for even thinking it. Perhaps this just the thing to push me over the edge, forcing me cancel even my local plan, which will no doubt lead to an eruption of chaos as Illinois collapses on top of itself, as I will no longer be paying my monthly 13 cent «State Infrastructure Maintenance Fee.»

So, what’ll it be, FCC? Low pre-paid rates or an infrastructureless state? Don’t think I won’t do it.