1) Americans and Canadians are not the only ones who get poor
service from their ISP, cable and/or alarm companies. (NTL is a
cable operator in Britain).
2) The Brits probably write the world's best letters of complaint.
WARNING: some adult content
Dear Cretins:
I have been an NTL customer since 9th July 2001, when I signed up
for your four-in-one deal for cable TV, cable modem, telephone,
and alarm monitoring. During this three-month period I have
encountered inadequacy of service which I had not previously
considered possible, as well as ignorance and stupidity of
monolithic proportions. Please allow me to provide specific
details, so that you can either pursue your professional
prerogative and seek to rectify these difficulties -- or more
likely (I suspect) so that you can have some entertaining reading
material as you while away the working day smoking B&H and
drinking vendor-coffee on the bog in your office.
My initial installation was cancelled without warning, resulting in
my spending an entire Saturday sitting on my fat arse waiting for
your technician to arrive. When he did not arrive, I spent a
further 57 minutes listening to your infuriating hold music, and
the even more annoying Scottish robot woman telling me to look at
your helpful website. HOW? I alleviated the boredom by playing
with my testicles for a few minutes -- an activity at which you
are no doubt both familiar and highly adept. The rescheduled
installation then took place some two weeks later, although the
technician did forget to bring a number of vital tools -- such as
a drill-bit, and his cerebrum.
Two weeks later, my cable modem had still not arrived. After 15
telephone calls over four weeks my modem arrived, six weeks after I
had requested it -- and begun to pay for it. I estimate your
internet server's downtime is roughly 35% -- the hours between
about 6 pm and midnight, Monday through Friday, and most of the
weekend. I am still waiting for my telephone connection.
I have made nine calls on my mobile to your no-help line, and have
been unhelpfully transferred to a variety of disinterested
individuals who are, it seems, also highly skilled bollock
jugglers. I have been informed that a telephone line is available
(and someone will call me back); that I will be transferred to
someone who knows whether or not a telephone line is available
(and then been cut off); that I will be transferred to someone
(and then been redirected to an answering machine informing me
that your office is closed); that I will be transferred to someone
and then been redirected to the irritating Scottish robot woman.
And several other variations on this theme.
Doubtless you are no longer reading this letter, as you have at
least a thousand other dissatisfied customers to ignore, and also
another one of those crucially important testicle moments to
attend to. Frankly I don't care. It's far more satisfying as a
customer to voice my frustrations in print than to shout them at
your unending hold music.
Forgive me, therefore, if I continue.
I thought British Telecom was shit; that they had attained the holy
piss-pot of god-awful customer relations; and that no one,
anywhere, ever, could be more disinterested, less helpful or more
obstructive to delivering service to their customers. That's why I
chose NTL, and because, well, there isn't anyone else, is there?
How surprised I therefore was, when I discovered to my considerable
dissatisfaction and disappointment what a useless shower of
bastards you truly are. You are sputum-filled pieces of distended
rectum incompetents of the highest order. BT -- wankers though
they are -- shine like brilliant beacons of success in the filthy
mire of your seemingly limitless inadequacy.
Suffice to say that I have now given up on my futile and foolhardy
quest to receive any kind of service from you. I suggest that you
cease any potential future attempts to extort payment from me for
the services which you have so pointedly and catastrophically
failed to deliver. Any such activity will be greeted initially
with hilarity and disbelief and will quickly be replaced by
derision, and even perhaps bemused rage.
I enclose two small deposits, selected with great care from my
cat's litter tray, as an expression of my utter and complete
contempt for both you and your pointless company. I sincerely hope
that they have not become desiccated during transit -- they were
satisfyingly moist at the time of posting, and I would feel
considerable disappointment if you did not experience both their
rich aroma and delicate texture. Consider them the very embodiment
of my feelings towards NTL, and its worthless employees.
Have a nice day. May it be the last in your miserable short lives,
you irritatingly incompetent and infuriatingly unhelpful bunch of
twits.
