Or is the offshore call centre industry a funky new replacement for hair shirts and beds of nails?
On Tuesday night, my last thought before I fell asleep was that the storm was very noise with all that thunder. Then I was off to Nod.
Next day I couldn’t log on… Oh. And the telly wouldn’t work… Oooh.
Oooooh it was frustrating.
I spent many, many, many hours on the phone to try to sort it out. It was nice to talk to you lovely people at BT, Talktalk, Netgear, BT, Netgear, Sky, Netgear, Bt, Netgear, BT and, finally, all those other fabulous folk who arranged for repayment of the Hurry Hurry Next Day In A Rush 24-Hour delivery fee when the replacement gadget didn’t turn up.
I’m also really pleased that I bothered to learn the phonetic alphabet so many years ago, it was a joy to have the chance to practice it so often – Romeo, Echo, November, Foxtrot, Romeo, Echo, Whisky, Sierra, Hotel, India, Romeo, Echo.
I’ve got a message for that chap who worked for BT (the third time I phoned them) – it’s in Scotland, which is in the UK, it’s raining, I did have a birthday recently, I’m planning one or two holidays soon, and you didn’t manage to make the dial-up connection work.
Thumbs up to Sky – your lady was lovely, knew what she was talking about and fixed it first time.