Painful Peristalsis

I’ve been struggling a bit with tiredness. I think it’s down to overdoing the desserts on Tuesday – when my body should have been resting overnight, it was too busy churning enough pancakes to feed an army through its digestive tract.

I really want to go on a big rant about something, but I’m trying really hard not to because I want to be a nice person. But we’ve been having problems with our computer set-up at home this week and it has got to the stage where I had to call the ‘Manufacturer’s Hardware Helpline’ for some support. Talk about throwing obstacles in the way of a clear path. There was a three-minute message before I even got to a Menu, then none of the options applied to our problem, then we had to hear another recorded message about, ironically, calls being recorded, then I was held in a queue, then I had to follow a ‘Call Centre Registration and ID check protocol’ because I’d never contacted them before. Then, when I finally got to explain our issues, I was given no help whatsoever, save for being asked to package it up and send it to their ‘Repair Centre’ which would cost me £60 with no guarantees that they could a} fix it without wiping the hard drive clean, or b} send it back without further damage.

So I guess, in this case, ‘Customer Service’ means ‘Token Conversation So We Can Say We’re Approachable, Even Though We Have No Intention Of Doing Anything.’

The world is going to pieces. I’m relatively young but even I remember the days when people that sold you products felt a duty of care to you and wanted to be proud of how you were dealt with. Nowadays we’re just seen as an open chequebook and piss all else.

But, as I said, I’m not going to go on a rant about it.

RC 7-3-19