What We Have Here is Less a Failure to Communicate, More a Massive Cock-Up.

So here I am in the wonderful land of Cymru (Wales to those who are members of the super elite club known as ‘being Welsh’), at the end of a glorious week of catching up with friends, being astounded by both the changes and the beauty of my home town (really, I don’t remember there being this much green stuff lurking around Cardiff, but apparently it was always like that), and generally having a splendid time.  Am I going to recount all this splendour and magnificence for you in intricately detailed prose?  Of course not.  No I’m going to complain about the sodding mobile phone company who are crap, crap, crap.

After attempting to top up my toy phone, which would not look out of place on the shelves of Toys r Us beneath a sign stating Fisherprice ‘ My First Phone’ $4.99 special, I was in a somewhat steely frame of mind.  I tried twice on a computer, and twice on the automated telephone service, using two different cards, both of which are in perfect working order, and was rejected FOUR times.  I talked to the card providers as suggested by the stupid sodding phone company, who said, “Nothing to do with us love, they haven’t even tried to take the payment as far as we can see”.

I can’t phone the service provider because they charge you to talk to a customer service agent, and I don’t have enough credit left to call them, so I trot down to a mobile phone shop who let me use their landline.  Then I spend 20 minutes on the phone to some poor girl who won the unlucky sod lottery by getting me on the end of the phone.  I explain the situation to her, and she doesn’t know what the problem is.

She checks with her financial department, who inform her that the card was rejected because it was tried too many times and subsequently blocked.  Really?  Why was it denied the first time then? And by the way, I used two different cards, why were they both blocked?  Eh? Eh Sherlock, tell me that then! To which the unfortunate customer service agent (who I can hear cringing over the phone) replies “The financial department tell me it’s company policy to block cards on the account for thirty days..I don’t really know why this has happened.”

I deliver the stinging blow of a momentary silence followed by a slowly drawled, “So what you’re telling me is that last week I bought a phone and sim card purposely for international travel which I now can’t use for a month and even then there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to pay to top them up.  So they are UTTERLY USELESS!  That’s what you’re saying?”

She answers with a silent wince and then, “I’m really sorry.”

“May I please have the number for your financial department?” Icicles instantly form on the phone.

Two minutes of tinny music ensue, followed by, “I’m sorry Ma’am I’m not allowed to give that information out.”  Aha, the financial department are frightful cowards then who know the company is a big pile of poo stained pants, and quite rightly don’t want to talk to me.

Heavy sighing followed by the gratefully received words “Right then”.  They are always gratefully received because it signals the end of a very awkward conversation.  Little do customer services know that this is simply a brief pause in the battle for me to have a cup of tea before regrouping and charging back into the fray.

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