Connecting to the ‘Net’ via my Internet Service Provider has been a nightmare these past few days. Adding to the nightmare has been the fact that each time I need to talk to my ISP’s unhelpful line, I am patched through to India? It’s quite obvious that the Indian unhelpful line worker operates from a scripted set piece, from which they cannot deviate, because when they run out of excuses they put you on hold; or just cut you off!
Several times in as many hours I explained the problem, eventually being put in direct contact with “Andrew’ a supervisor (all of the Indian staff have to take on a Christian name to give the Western customer comfort); he told me he had identified my problem. I sat with bated breath to hear the wisdom flow over his tongue. “One of your neighbour’s is running a ‘Wi-Fi router’ that is interfering with your own transmission”! I remained calm and dignified, replying “Andrew, mate, I know you can access Google Earth on your system, please type my post-code into it, you will see that my closest neighbour is five miles away; besides which, I am not using Wi-Fi, I am linked to my home Hub direct via the cable”. I was promptly cut off…
In my garage hanging from one of the heavy wooden beams is a worn leather punch/kick bag, which is where I spent the next ten minutes venting my spleen against, after which I walked the dogs, made a pot of tea, and wrote the day off as a loss.
The following morning (Wed) the ‘postie’ arrived with a package that had to be signed for. I walked back into the kitchen and opened it as I waited for the kettle to blow its top. There contained within the parcel was a brand new business Hub, with all of the bells & whistles required to kick-start my morning. As per the instruction contained within, I loaded the old one into the now vacant box, and installed the replacement; of which I had no idea was being sent out…
Please re-read the first short paragraphs above for a brief synopsis of what followed, after I hit the newly supplied Hub’s ‘power on switch’. I left the garage completely drained with the sweat pouring from me; I had a quick shower, and put the kettle on. Nothing will beat me; I will never give in, the call centre battle continued after lunch. The afternoon led on to a partial, intermittent success, allowing me to clear backlogged e-mail, and even add one or two posts to this blog… More telephone calls ensued, and the frustration at being disconnected from the Hub every forty minutes led to the kettle and my blood boiling, often. Between pots of tea, extra walks for the dogs, and kicking hell out of the punch bag in the garage, the day just flew by…
Unbelievably, the following morning (Thu) the ‘postie’ arrived with yet another ‘to-sign-for’ parcel, one more totally unexpected business Hub with the same detailed instructions asking for the replacement to be returned? Some one in India was messing with my mind, and I did wonder if ‘Andrew Patel’ was the culprit. The Hub remained unopened in its box, sat next to the original one waiting to be returned. Thursday ran along the lines of Wednesday, with an intermittent service forcing the connection to drop erratically, followed by numerous frustrated calls to India. I thought time only flew by when you were enjoying yourself?
There has been a plus side to this saga so far, as the dogs are thoroughly enjoying their extended outdoor life more than ever, my skin colour has taken on a healthy tea tannic tone, and the punch bag has been re-roped to the hanging chain, which was long overdue. Not to mention my improved hearing, no doubt attributed to the amount of steam being vented through my ears in pure frustration.
Friday morning arrived, as did the ‘postie’ with yet another parcel, which once again was placed un-opened alongside the other two. This day I was determined not to call India, selfishly they could improve their English with another customer through hours of conversation. I would use my connection time to research another Internet Service Provider, which I was part way through doing when my good mate (a tech wizard) returned my call. His advice was “Call India, then refuse to speak with them about the problem, insist they put you through to the call centre in Ireland, they will connect you, then immediately ask the Irish help line for their number for future reference; then explain the problem ”!
The wizard had spoken; his words were the words of a true wizard, as the Indian unhelpful line did in fact re-connect me to the Irish help desk. An Irish angel with a true soft Irish accent by the name of Siobhan [Shiv=awn] whispered seductively into my earpiece, and explained the situation in layman’s terms. From her side of the Isle of Erin she passed forth detailed instruction with a magical reset code. She then promised to call back within one hour to see if every thing was up and running. Every thing was up and running, perfectly! True to her beautiful Irish word, Siobhan called just as I had finished making a cup of tea. We both chatted over the previous situation where I recounted my problems as well as discussed my collection of Hub’s, which she identified on her system “There have been two more despatched, but I’ve put a block on anymore going out”?
Having retained Siobhan’s helpline number I sat confidently throughout Friday evening, and cleared the majority of my on-line work (and even posted on this blog). This morning (Sat) the bemused ‘postie’ did indeed bring another parcel, and I assured him there would be one more on Monday, which would be the last. ‘Gawd’ knows what he’s thinking, as the parcels come plainly marked, without any marks or identifiers relating to the sender, and I saw him rattle the parceled box gently against his ear; the gossip around these little villages can ruin a man’s reputation… Yours Aye.