Friday, October 13, 2006

Customer Service.

Where oh where did it go?

I've had to knit myself a new internet connection from unraveled furballs and the pubic hair of telephone 'help' (and I have no idea how to appropriately laden that word with irony. but in my heart I know you know what I mean) operators.

"You can track the progress of your complaint on our website . . . "

HOW? EXACTLY?

two weeks with no phone, fax or internet at home. and since I've only been with the new company around six months, and since they have just had the decency to listen to my grumblings and change my role (note to self: careful what you wish for) it seems a tad churlish to do all my reading and writing of blog on their time.

I've spent days wondering how I was going to catch up with all the reading, and hoping nobody wrote anything too interesting or unnotcommentableon in my absence.

Unfortunately comments had closed on this because I wanted to say "FIGHT IT, HEATHER. FIGHT THE BASTARD" in my most aggressive rallying call uppercase. (but without exclamation points because, you know, she's not keen)

Fortunately, the doors had not slammed shut on my intrusive itchy bloggy fingers over here, where lildb is gnawing away at exorcising the bit of her brain that tries to tell her that stuff's supposed to be a certain way. I'm confident she knows that that part of her brain should shut the fuck up and never persuade her to use the word drivel, even in half laugh faux irony, ever again about anything she writes or thinks. Breathe, woman, Breathe! and also, what's a flokati rug?

As an extra special Welcome Back Bonus, the interweb found me these lovely autumny pictures. Summer has finished here, but nothing has really happened that called be called autumn. it's all grey and damp. conkers and acorns are duly setting off car alarms in the street, but we don't have the lovely crispy air. And it's too cool for tshirt sleeves, but a brisk walk to the nursery in a fleece leaves one 'glowing', as I believe the delicate among us might say. Horrid, awkward inbetweeny. Or is that just me?

1 Comments:

At 8:44 pm, October 13, 2006, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Conkers! I know how to play that game! Here, we call them chestnuts, of course-- we Americans are nothing if not dull.

Thanks for stopping by--although I am disheartened to learn that the extinction of good customer service is not just a local phenomena. And here I'd thought England was my last great hope for civility and great customer service, alas.

~bluepoppy

 

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