The brits do have a way with words...
From: John(HI)
Subject: Brit Eloquence
Date: August 27, 2003 at 10:26 am PST
Letter from an Englishman to a British company……
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 ar$e 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 sh!t; 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 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 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.
