Monday, June 21, 2004

The futures's getting duller...

Read this first
Im reveling in my current position of 'the wronged'. It means i can ring Orange up at any time i want and vent my spleen, just for the fun of it. And there's nothing they can do about it. Other than taking out a restraining order.

I was bored early Saturday morning - as you probably noticed from the early blog update. And i was also still a bit narked about my lack of a promised call back from Orange technical support. Its been 5 days since i was promised a call straight back, so I thought id have another play with my personal sponge ball.

I dont want to give you the impression that this is some type of obsession, that i think about nothing else or like ive been lying awake at night picking the legs off Daddy Long-Legs, while the thunder roars and the rain beats down through an open window. Im doing this for the small people. You'll all thank me one day.

My main objective of the phone call on Saturday morning, other than outright sadism, was to get them to just pick my phone up and send me another one. I was fed up of my phone, and the type of phone, "so just arrange for it to be picked up please". "Im sorry Sir" came the predictable response followed by some blurb concerning a maximum of 7 days trial period before i can send the phone back no more.

I was pretty clear on my aims: "look, someone is going to arrange for my phone to be picked up and switched for another, so either you arrange it for me or put me onto someone who will". She transferred me. To my nemesis: technical support.

I told the guy on the other end "i dont know why ive been transferred to you, im waiting for a call back from you guys, can you tell me how long it will be? ". "Well theyre very busy Sir" he said. So phones break down a lot at Orange then? Hmmmmm....

He then 'Customer Serviced' me, which involves allowing people to rant before trying to talk to them. He was there a while. He then said that he also didnt know why i'd been transferred there and he proceeded to transfer me back from whence i came. I gave my next poor victim my 'pick my phone up now' ultimatum and she tried to tell me it couldnt be done so i just told her to put me through to Head Of Orange UK to see if he knew any different.

"How can i help Sir" said Mark, call centre supervisor. Not exactly the corporate strategist with the multi-million pound share options i was hoping for but at least i was at Level 2 now. No more fannying around with the minnions on Level 1. Now i was getting somewhere. Now they will listen. Or so i thought.

He helped me no more than the others, except to unwittingly reveal to me that the person who gave me what i thought was the Head of Orange UK's address, now known as geek boy, was in fact trying to pull the wool over my eyes as i had suspected. Hmmmm....

Previously i was told to write to Customer Relations in Bristol, but i didnt want to speak to them as i know that Customer Relations as a whole are a pretty soulless and de-sensitised bunch. They see complaints all the time and are less likely to go the extra mile because of that. I wanted the Head, he might not even read it, but at the very least his secretary will and even if he/she sends it straight to Customer Relations then they are far more likely to make a person happy whose complaint has come through their leader.

Anyway, geek boy gave me the address of the Head as a PO Box address in Bristol, i had my suspicions at the time as i didnt think the top banana at Orange would have his mail through a PO Box in Bristol, i had a feeling that i'd been double-sixed and my letter would end up going straight to Customer Relations. But i was assured this was the address until my new friend Mark revealed the true location of Orange HQ when i asked him to confirm it. They thought they could fool Watski.

I wouldnt normally advocate having a go at the worker ants, ive been there before - following the company line is no fun, especially when you normally sympathise with the person on the other end of the line who's making your life hell. But there is always slack in the system, he who makes most noise often gets what he wants. So it doesnt pay to be a shrinking violet when faced with appalling service.

The letter has now gone, i did feel like toning it down a little, but Mr Fraser has now got both barrels afters Saturday mornings chenanigans.