I am not a religious person. But I do hold this one, tiny, hotly fanatical belief. I have faith that one day Verizon Wireless - my mobile phone service provider - will get what it deserves. Eventually...

After long discussions with our parents and close associates, my girlfriend and I decided to take the next step in our relationship in October 2001. We started a cell phone plan together. Two phones. One account. Seventy dollars a month. But like so many newlywireless, we hit a rough patch. Right out of the gate, Verizon double-billed us. Four phones. Two accounts. One hundred forty dollars a month. Now, I returned the extra phones and I cancelled the ghost account, but the extra bills kept on coming. I spent long hours - or as they're called in the cellular biz, minutes - on the phone with customer service reps named Millie and Brian who assured me the matter was resolved.

On December 28, I received a belated Christmas present from Verizon's collections department. Bob wanted four hundred dollars that I didn't owe him. When I protested, he transferred me to yet another customer service representative who said he take care of the problem. But the bills didn't stop. And in February of the next year, our phones - our real phones, the ones we paid for - were shut off. I freaked out. I totally lost it on the customer service representative. Her name was Selena. I unleashed a blue streak of profanity that sent my cats scurrying under the couch. I said things I'd never said before - and that I'll never say again.

Selena transferred me to Sherry. Who transferred me to Marshall.

It was around this time that my belief in the coming of the wireless messiah was solidified. Instead of seeking vengeance upon Verizon's customer service staff, I planted a seed of hope inside my heart. This can't go on any longer, I thought. And I'm not the only one. There are millions of Americans out there with the same story. Nearly every one I know has a mobile phone, and every single one of them has a horror story about their cellular service. We need help. A book like Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle" won't do. Reform movements like the New Deal or a Geat Society won't cut it. This is Verizon we're talking about. We need a deified, not-of-this-earth being with supernatural powers.

When the wireless messiah comes, he will visit a great plague upon the mobile phone industry. With a sweep of his free hand, he will institute a fair, twenty-five dollar service plan. Dead spots will be infused with life. Billing statements will be limited to one comprehendible page. Dropped calls? The wireless messiah will catch them. Customers will be notified of their voicemails within, say, five minutes. American cell phones will no longer live in the technological shadow of their European brethren. And the best part? The wireless messiah will bless us…with unlimited peak minutes.

I'm not the only one who believes in the wireless messiah. There are others. Join us, as we wait patiently - on hold - for our salvation.