Friday, 27 January 2012

Angry Letters: Dear British Gas,

"I'm sorry but we seem to be experiencing an unusual amount of calls," is not an appropriate automated message to receive every time I call you. Perhaps in the future you should consider something along the lines of "I'm sorry, we're just this shit" or "Be warned, it doesn't get any better."

Once I have listened to your insistence that I can probably sort my problem out online (I can't) I am then put on hold to the mellow, trumpeting borefest of Blur's 'The Universal' for up to forty minutes at a time. This is not acceptable. Are you aware, British Gas, that there exist genuine forms of torture based on similar techniques to your hold music? I am.

You should be aware, British Gas, that I do not spend forty minutes of my time with a phone pressed against my face, purely for the shits and the giggles. Therefore, British Gas, when your operator finally does pick up, please give me more than two seconds to respond to your voice. I am obviously going to have put you on loudspeaker whilst I spend forty minutes of my time doing something that actually benefits me, even if it is flossing between my toes. Do not merely say "hello" once and then hang up, leaving me to embark upon the whole ordeal all over again.

When, British Gas, I finally get hold of you, can you please ensure that your operator has a slightly less obnoxious grasp of grammar than that which I have experienced thusfar. I do not mind in the slightest if English is not your operator's first language. Unlike many bigots, I couldn't give two hoots as to their accent, as long as they understand me. So the underpaid, outsourced guys in the call centre in India are off the hook for this one. What I do mind is the ex-estate agents in your employment abusing reflexive pronouns like there is no tomorrow. In particular, today, your operator said to me, "We can get someone out in the morning or evening. What would be better for yourself?"

Yourself? YOURSELF? A situation cannot be better for myself, only for ME! I can buy a present for myself or spank myself on a lonely Friday night but YOU cannot offer an appointment to MYSELF! MORON! MORON! DIE! DIE! DIE!

Yours with eternal gratitude and earnest pleasure,

A Victim of your Services

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