[Old, but still funny] Complaints.
I found these lying around, thought I'd post them for posterity...
Quote:
Subject: A real-life customer complaint letter
Date: 12 Oct 2001 15:10:55 +0100
A real-life customer complaint letter sent to NTL from their complaints
dept....
Dear Cretins
I have been an NTL customer since 9th July 2001, when I signed up for your
3-in-one deal for cable TV, cable modem, and telephone.
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 or notice, resulting
in my spending an entire Saturday sitting on my fat arse waiting for your
technician to arrive.
When he did not arrive at all, 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 to some small degree 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 several further
telephone calls (actually 15 telephone calls over 4 weeks) my modem arrived
... a total of six weeks after I had requested it, and begun to pay for it.
I estimate that the downtime of your internet servers is roughly 35%...these
are usually the hours between about 6pm and midnight, Monday to Friday, and
most of the useful periods over the weekend.
I am still waiting for my telephone connection. I have made 9 telephone
calls on my mobile to your no-help line this week, 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 no 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 who knows whether or not a telephone line is available (and then
been redirected to an answer machine informing me that your office is
closed); that I will be transferred to someone who knows whether or not a
telephone line is available (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 BT were shit, that they had attained the holy piss-pot of
god-awful customer relations, 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. British Telecom - wankers though they are - shine like
brilliant beacons of success, in the filthy puss-filled 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 do likewise, and
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 - although these feelings will quickly be replaced by derision,
and even perhaps a small measure of bemused rage.
I enclose two small deposits, selected with great care from my cats 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 it's worthless employees.
Have a nice day - may it be the last in you miserable short life, you
irritatingly incompetent and infuriatingly unhelpful bunch of twats.
Re: [Old, but still funny] Complaints.
Here's another one...
Quote:
> For those who get the Great Eastern Railway or any trains really.
>
> This is a letter that a friend of a friend has recently written to Great
> Eastern.
>
>
>
> Dear Sir or Madam:
>
> I write this letter out of anger at the state of the train service
> currently provided by yourselves. Today I have come to the end of my
> tether. I attempted to phone your customer service number to make a
> complaint but after being put on hold for 15 minutes I hung up.
>
> I am in complete disbelief at how you can continue charging so much for
> such a horrific service and wish to let you in on my average morning:-
>
> Every morning I park my car at Seven Kings aiming to board the 7.53am
> train to Liverpool Street station however since the trains rarely stick
to
> any kind of time table this is irrelevant. I work just outside of
> Liverpool Street station and start work at 9am, this train should pull
> about 8.15am allowing plenty of time to be in the office well before
> 8.30am as well as enabling me to purchase breakfast on the way.
>
> I make my way to the platform to find literally hundreds of others
> standing on the station, indicating that there has not been a train for
> some time. I then wait for 10 minutes on the promise of ''the next train
> arriving at platform 3 will be the delayed 7.02am service (or some such
> ridiculous time) this train is expected to arrive in 2 minutes''. Five
> minutes still with no train having appeared I am greeted with the same
> monotonous voice which I have come to know so well, advising ''the next
> train to arrive at platform 3 will be the delayed 7.02am service this
> train is expected to arrive in 2 minutes, this delay has been caused by a
> signal failure in Greater Manchester''. By this time several thousand
> commuters are standing on the platform praying that lady luck is shining
> on them this morning and that when the next train pulls in the doors will
> by some miracle stop in front of them.
>
> Several commuters are leaning over the platform edge peering into the
> distance scanning the horizon for a rare sighting of a Great Eastern
train
> which is virtually unheard of before 10am. Gasps of surprise spread
along
> the platform when a train is spotted, however most are unsure whether
> their eyes are deceiving them. Never entirely convinced myself, I pinch
my
> arm just to ensure this isn't some kind of elaborate dream. A small
> waive of joy washes over me as I realise it is a train and not a mirage.
> Hooray I should be in work by 9am!! However, as the train starts to slow
> and the windows rush past any previous delight (or perhaps relief)
> experieced was short lived and has dissentegrated to nothing as I realise
> there is no way on Gods earth I am squashing my massive (note the
sarcasm)
> 9 stone bulk into the 2 inch gap remaining in each carriage.
>
> So pursues my wait for the 'next train' if ever there will be one. The
> time now 8.20am breakfast plans are aborted (again) and I realise it is
> imperative I get on the next train or not only will I arrive at work
> hungry I will also be late. The next train pulls in and de ja vu kicks
> in. Packed, packed, packed!!! My fellow commuters (by this time running
> into millions) look aghast as I stand back about 3 meters, ''what is she
> doing?''. The train stops and the doors open I take a run up...... a
> leap....... bang! Yes I'm on!! No one can breathe but at least I'm on.
> Minor celebrations begin in my head, a small band starts up and I feel
> rather smug at my good fortune. Everyone on the train is moaning, but
> what option to I have? 10% of my salary every month goes on to this
> service and I believe I have a right (although Great Eastern probably
> disagrees) to board a train. Besides what choice do I have I could be
> there all day!!
>
> Next challenge, the doors but luckily for me everyone is very experienced
> and as the familiar beeb beeb beeb sounds everyone inhales and after
> taking a few blows to either side of my head the doors close and we're
> off. Well actually we're going about as fast a tortoise with three legs,
> due to 'adverse weather conditions' which can be translated as
'spitting'.
> I suppose this could be deemed as understandable, the train system was
> designed optimistically I suspect with the expectance of glorious
sunshine
> every day. I dread to think what will happen if the weather gets really
> bad, perhaps the ceilings will leak, perhaps they are made from canvas
> because they omitted to consider external stimuli such as rain, and
sleet.
> God help us all if it snows!
>
> Next challenge - Ilford. Not only do I now have a big muddy stain across
> my cheek and nose where my face has been squashed against the glass but I
> am fully aware of the fact I will have to fight to keep my place on this
> carriage especially if anyone wants to get off. What should be a
pleasant
> journey to work is now more like survival of the fittest. Other
> passengers are now not considered as friendly fellow commuters they are
> the enemy designed to challenge your staying power and threaten your
place
> on the carriage. Fortunately at Ilford no one needs to get off (phew) but
> now there are about 40 people charging at me who all appear keen to join
> us on our 'adventure' to work - 1 lucky man makes it. By this stage the
> number of passengers present in each carriage is the equivalent of
> cramming about 100 sardines into a standard sized tin. We are so tightly
> packed in I cannot move my hands to get a tissue from my pocket to wipe
my
> nose, I can feel a mobile phone vibrating in my pocket which I realise is
> not mine it belongs to the lady attached to my right hand side. On top
of
> this the heat is unbearable I have sweat running down my forehead which I
> am powerless to do anything about. The 1 inch gap designed to ventilate
> the trains appear to be more designed as 'a little joke' by Great
Eastern,
> who in the peak of British summer time took great pleasure in permanently
> wedging then half shut so they open barely a centimetre. In fact I'm
half
> surprised they haven't been glued completely shut for additional 'fun'.
>
> Eventually after the train has reluctantly dragged its feet into
> Stratford, the passengers who have now all bonded together to form a
putty
> like human square burst open onto the platform and now its time for the
> recovery process. I take my hair down in an effort to dry the sweat out
> of it, I try to wipe the mud off of my face, I pick off the snot which
> has dried in a crusty trail from my nose to my upper lip and also try to
> regain the use of my body parts which have ceased up due to excessive
pins
> and needles.
>
> We are then greeted at Liverpool Street station by stadium sized crowds
> queuing to get through the barriers. And after this I sprint to work
> like Linford Christie, scraping in by the skin of my teeth for 9am,
> looking like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards and
> understandably in a 'great' mood.
>
> A few comments for you to take on board:-
>
> * Don't add insult to injury by 'thanking us for travelling with
Great
> Eastern', as its certainly not something 99% of the passengers 'choose'
> they are just unfortunate enough to live near to one of your dire train
> stations.
> *
> * Do not ask us to accept your apologies for the delay, you should
be
> apologising for the abysmal service, the over-packed trains and the
> extortionate price of travel.
> *
> * Perhaps the layout of the trains could be reconsidered, you are
> never going to be able to provide enough trains, so perhaps you could rip
> out the seats and everyone could stand up. You could then sell the seats
> at a car boot sale and perhaps offer a refund or Christmas bonus type
> scheme for season ticket holders.
> *
> * Why not consider a name change? I can't think of a more
ill-fitting
> name than 'Great Eastern' I should think 'Shite Eastern' would be far
> more appropriate.
>
> I trust someone will have the decency to read and respond to this letter,
> and perhaps even consider taking some of my innovative ideas on board.
>
> I look forward to your explanation, and proposed plans for improvements.
>
> Regards,
