05 May 2016

Never Loved You Anyway

by J.R.Thomas

Rogue Male She’s gone. And you know what? I don’t care. No, more than that, I’m rejoicing. “Go”, I shouted at the end, in those final days when we both knew and it was just the parting moves that had to play out, “Go, and never come back”. I’ve another now anyway, but so far as my ex is concerned, it’s over, she, she, she’s just not for me anymore.

We have been together so long I can’t remember when we first connected. 1981 I guess it must have been, though I knew her long before that, her powers, her strange magnetism, but also her difficult ways, her awkwardness, the expense; the sheer damned expense. But we got together eventually, 1981 or whenever it was, and actually, it was not so bad. And it seemed worth it in those days; it was something so new and special to me. Though even so, when I think of the expense! My god, those endless bills, each one bigger than the last.

But I’m a regular sort of guy, loyal and not given to flirting with others; and let’s face it, with my needs I didn’t have much choice. After a while we grew used to each other, we moved to a bigger house, to the country and back to town, we got used to each other and to each other’s ways. In many ways it worked well. But then, I started to notice others, on the tube, on buses, everywhere. Suddenly I realised there really was a choice.

But as I say, I’m loyal. Don’t mend what isn’t broken is my motto. And we would still be together I honestly believe if, just at the time I started leering a bit at the competition, she hadn’t seemed to go off me anyway. She just didn’t care anymore. I really didn’t seem to matter. She was never there when I wanted her. She might as well have moved to India. She had always been expensive to run, but now, it went completely out of control. The bills poured in, endlessly, and all wanted paying immediately, now.

She’s gone now; you’ll not see her again in my house. “I don’t think I ever met her”, you say, puzzled. But you did, Beattie, or rather BT- British Telecom.

The Editor does not permit diatribes in the hallowed reading rooms of the Shaw Sheet, quite rightly. So we will not dwell on the failings of BT. Except for one story, which really encapsulates the whole attitude of Britain’s biggest and oldest telecoms company. It’s those bills. Quarterly the bill arrives. It is dated, for example, 1st May. It arrives, typically, on the 8th or 9th May. It is payable by 12th May. If it is not paid by the 15th May, the phone calls begin. Usually by text but my landline does not take text messages, just a strange message to say one has been sent but is irretrievable. (BT, who provides most of the landlines in the UK must surely know that, but never mind.). Then the calls: “Can I speak to the account holder, please?” “Who wants him?” “Are you authorised to speak on his behalf?” “Um, I am not sure about that.”

And so it goes on, every three or four days. Then the reminder letter and the threats to cut off services, especially broadband (after all, even BT knows most people don’t need a landline).

This time I took them at their word. Cut it off, cut the lot, close the account, and send me a closing bill. They did, with a “late payment penalty” of £7.50. It is not entirely clear how one can be late paying a bill they have just sent, but £7.50! Take it and go, for the price of a City sandwich I’m rid of them. That £7.50 at least was wonderful value.

But the point of this – no, not diatribe – this sad saga of sundered communications, is astonishment that at no time did anybody ask me why I was leaving. I spoke to a call centre service person, their supervisor to confirm my instructions, and a manager who rang me to further confirm, but none of them asked what terrible events had occurred that had led me to end a relationship that had lasted more than half my life. Not a flicker of interest. Nada concern. Do they fear being told – the unleashing of a torrent of abuse – or it is such a common event that they can’t be bothered to ask anymore? The final bill hopes that I will come back to BT. Better find out first why I left, Beattie.

Britain’s corporates and retailers have never been so keen to find out what we think of their services, their delivery speeds, and their range of products. Every attempt to order goods on the internet is interrupted by a customer survey which will only take up 15 minutes of my time.

15 minutes! I have a life to lead! Try to check out of any hotel, but before you do, fill in a form dealing with all aspects of your stay. In boxes ranging from “Magnificently Delighted” via “Really Very Very Good” down to “Not Bad At All”.

These forms are very carefully designed so that only a serious curmudgeon would tick any box that gave a poor mark. Anything that might cause grounds for complaint is avoided with great care.

No box for “Was the battery in the TV remote flat?” or “Was the shower difficult to turn on without scalding yourself?” or “Were you kept awake by the wedding party going on two floors below?”

E-commerce is just the same. “Was the packaging difficult/impossible to open without bending the vinyl record inside?” or “Is the product half the size the glossy pictures misled you into believing?” are questions you would like to answer, not “Was the product delivered within ten days of when we indicated?” or “Were the payment instructions clear?”. The payment instructions are indeed clear – they are always wonderfully clear…

I am not one of those who deplore the advance of the modern world. I think e-commerce is wonderful, so easy to get things that used to take weeks of finding, traipsing round obscure shops after long journeys to dubious parts of town. Shopping is so much easier, now leaving more time for the good things of life. And if I were an e-shopkeeper, unable to see my customers body language, hear the grouchiness in their voices, watch black clouds scud across their faces when they learned that batteries and plug are extra, I am sure I would hope that they would fill in the on-line satisfaction form so I might learn how to delight still more the next clicker who appears on my website. I might even anonymously order the products I sell from my own website, just to discover where the issues might arise that I actually might want my customer’s opinion on.

Or, maybe, BT has it right. Don’t ask, don’t care. Just keep putting the prices up and banging the charges in and chasing payment as if they can’t pay the milk bill this week. And take the chance that the customers will still be there next time you send out the bills.

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