What follows is a superb example of British humour in a letter that was
trulywritten and sent. The piece suggests two things:
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 appear to get a better education than most , enabling them
to write some fine letters of complaint.
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 servers
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 ****; 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 dessicated 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 life, you
irritatingly incompetent and infuriatingly unhelpful bunch of twits.
Murray & Ellen
