Apropos - ‘A Battle With BT’
In my last post I described my encounter with BT engineers and the non installation of my telephone and broadband package. Following that non event, I phoned my landlord and, as we now live in a brand new bungalow, it seemed appropriate to call the builders as well.
I phoned my landlord first and the signs were good, my call was answered after just three rings. That was probably the only high point as the call went thus: -
‘This is an automated service, you now have three options; if your call relates to arrears press 1, if your call concerns making a payment, press 2, for all other enquiries, press 3.’
I pressed 3.
‘You now have three options; if your call relates to a scheduled repair, press 1; if your call relates to refuse collection, press 2; for all other enquiries, press 3.
I pressed 3, very hard!
‘Thank you, you now have 2 options; should you require an interpreter, press 1, for all other enquiries press 2 and an operator will be with you shortly.’
I pressed 2.
‘Thank you for holding, your call is very important to us, an operator will be with you shortly.’
By now I’m beginning to wonder just how important my call really is to them. Does anyone else think as I do? Are other people of the opinion that all of this is just an exercise in frustration whereby the operator; be that a bank, Local Authority or Utility Company, believe that by putting as many obstacles in the way as possible the consumer will simply give up? Then, of course, you have the other side of the coin, companies and especially Local Authorities cut costs at the sharp end by getting rid of front line staff in order to secure the fat salaries of the senior directors. We are then left with one or maybe two people manning the phones. These poor souls get so bombarded with complainers abuse that they revert to sarcasm and give out a ‘so what’ attitude. You can hardly blame them really, most of them have to spend their two weeks annual leave in The Priory or other salubrious ‘celebrity’ loony bin before being let loose on the unsuspecting public once more.
After two renditions of ‘Firework’ by Katie Perry, an interrupted ‘The Flood‘ , by Take That and an awful rendition of a popular song, the name of which escapes me, by some anonymous wannabe who’s just about old enough to be my great grand son, I hear; ‘Hello your through to The Landlords Office, my name is Gracie, how may I help you?’
I give ‘Gracie’ my name address and reference number and start to explain my problem.
‘Thank you sir, I’ll put you through to the appropriate department.’
Click, then static then more bloody Take That, bombarding my eardrums. Then I get the inevitable; ‘thank you for holding, your call is important to us. An adviser will be with you shortly.’
♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♪
‘Although no one understood. We were holding back the flood’
Bloody ‘Take That’, again; invading my aural canal!
‘Hello my name is Lenny, how may I help you?’
‘Are you the real Lenny or a recorded message?’ I ask cautiously, well, you can’t be too sure.
‘I’m real sir,’ giggles Lenny, ‘what can I do for you?’
I start to explain. . . ‘Hold on there sir, they’ve put you through to the wrong department, you need to speak to John, I’ll put you through.’
‘No, Len. . .’
♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♪
‘Although no one understood. We were holding back the flood’
Is suicide an option I ask myself? The maddening thing is, these songs get ingrained on your brain. Its like being bombarded with subliminal messages so, by the time Happy John comes on the line spouting the company mantra; ‘hello, my name is John, how can I help you?’
I’m two verses into ‘The Flood’ and singing at the top of my voice.
♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♪
‘Although no one understood. We were holding back the flood’
John has to repeat himself; ‘hello, my name is John, how can I help you?’
‘Would you like to finish the song with me John?’
‘I’m sorry sir, can you repeat that,’ he asks. Obviously perplexed by my willingness to sing.
‘Are you the ‘John’ who can help me with my telephone problem?’ I ask.
‘No, I don’t do telephones. Let me put you through to . . .’
‘No! John please don’t put me through to anyone,’ I plead. ‘I’m sure that you are the right person to help me. Do you deal with the builders of your properties?’
‘Yes but I don’t do phones.’
‘Therein lies the problem John. Had you shown a bit more interest in telephones, perhaps I wouldn’t now have this problem.’
‘In what way is it my problem, sir!’ John is now getting irritated.
I then explain to him the fiasco of earlier when BT failed to connect my phone and broadband because: quote; the builders didn’t liaise with BT when building the property and that is why I have no underground connection point. I did add that I sympathise with him because it is BT policy to only deal with their customer. Confusing with a new build project and fraught with unforeseen obstacles as now proven in this instance. I asked what he, as the liaison officer between the Authority and the builder, was going to do about it.
‘Get them (BT) to phone me and I will give them permission, as the Landlord, to run cables across the fronts of the three properties,’ he says.
‘As I’ve already explained,‘ I reply, ‘ because you are not the customer, they will not speak to you.’
‘Hang on, let me speak with the building contractors. . .’
‘No! . . . John, please. . .’
♫ ♬ ♪ ♫ ♫ ♪
‘Although no one understood. We were holding back the flood blah, blah, blah.’
This time I get the full rendition of the song plus the irritating falsetto of James Blunt singing one of his dirges and a repeat of Katy Perry wailing on about fireworks. Bravely, I resist the urge to sing along.
‘Hello, are you still there?’ It took me a while to realise that this was not a song lyric but a real persons voice.
‘Yes, still here.’ I reply, cautiously.
‘Thank you for hanging on, it's John. I have just spoken with the building contractor and he says the fault lies with BT.’
‘No, seriously?’ I reply, dripping sarcasm with every syllable. Not that it mattered as it all went completely over his head.
‘Yes, hard to believe I know but he is saying that BT didn’t supply them with any trunking or drawings.’
This is usually the point where any sane and reasonable person completely loses it and starts jumping up and down in frustration. I, however, realised that I was now entering new territory. I had been quite cleverly steered into the arena of, The Blame Game’! This is basically a knockout competition, there are no rules as such and you just keep bashing away until there is one man/woman, left standing. Once you have been corralled within the confines of the arena you have to be very patient and very cunning. Should you decide not to play, you lose! Should you decide to be confrontational, you lose! Should you decide to play, you will probably lose; certainly, you will lose in the short term.
A good ploy, which sometimes works, is to play the, I.H.T.B.I.Y.S card. You simply say, as I did on this occasion and with as much sincerity as you can muster, ‘I’d Hate To Be In Your Shoes, you have your tenants coming at you from one side, Utilities from another and to top it all you have contractors who refuse to be blamed when anything goes wrong. In retrospect, I’m sorry for dumping this on you but I didn’t know who else could help me. To stop it going further, is there anything at all you can do?’
The key phrase in all that waffle is, to stop it going further, You know, as well as the person to whom you are speaking, that he doesn’t want this landing on his bosses desk. In the grand scheme of things, its trivial; proven by the fact that no one wants to deal with it.
Then, take control of the situation, ‘look, I’ve got your number so if I haven’t heard from you by close of business tomorrow I’ll give you a ring and we can discuss who needs to be informed and what needs to be done in order to get it resolved.’
Then end the call.
I know, the whole lot looks simple and sounds trite but it works. It did on that occasion anyway and I wasn't left holding a warm mobile phone and wondering what my next move would be. Phoning the builder would not have been as productive as this call but just as expensive.
I classed that one as a draw.
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