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A Letter of Complaint
12-I-2004
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, 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 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, and begun to
pay for it. I estimate your internet server's downtime is roughly 35% --
the hours between about 6pm 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 truly thought British Telecom was shit, and 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 lives, you
irritatingly incompetent and infuriatingly unhelpful bunch of twats.
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