One of the biggest downsides to becoming an adult (along with worsening hangovers and the slow, inexorable crawl towards death) is dealing with service providers. I know this because I used to work for one, and because I have spent the last two weeks on the phone to Eircom.
All through my college years I worked in a call centre for one of our national banks, the one that rhymes with "make the tea". I spent five years with them, evenings and weekends. So I know all the tricks. What freephone number to call. How to bypass the automated phone system. When to call, who to ask for and how to speak to them. I am prouder of this than my college degree, and it has probably been of more use. But Eircom, oh how they've tested me.
We signed up for a broadband bundle with them in January and have had shambolic service from them since. We're moving house on Saturday and I've been determined to take this opportunity to kick them to the kerb. They wanted a pay-off as we'd be breaking our contract with them. They couldn't decide on an appropriate fee, so I decided that they shouldn't impose one at all. And I finally got them to agree.
I AM THE CHAMPIONS.
What's more, I did it without calling anyone names or reducing anyone (myself included) to tears. I am, justifiably - I think, proud. Stacked up alongside my square-offs with An Post and the Passport Office earlier this year, I'm thinking I should consider a career change. I'd be the Supernanny Jo Frost of service providers. I could work from home. In my underpants. I could get superhero underpants, if that would make anyone feel better about it.
We sat down to dinner with friends last night and upon being asked how I was keeping, I said "Great! Today was a Really Good Day. I told Eircom to go fuck themselves!". Nobody applauded, which was disappointing, but I trucked on with my dull little story anyway, and my husband sat quiet and proud by my side. Later, when they asked about our holiday, I got all puffed up with self-righteousness again at the mention of our hire car. It had broken down on us and we were left for 24 hours without a car, then had to go on a €130 taxi ride back to the airport to get another (and the replacement car was a Kia. The injustice of it all!). I wanted our €130 refunded, plus monies for the 24 hours we spent without a car and monies for the downgrade from a Ford C-Max. "Maybe we should just let that one lie" said Andrew. "After all, we did fill their diesel car with petrol".
All through my college years I worked in a call centre for one of our national banks, the one that rhymes with "make the tea". I spent five years with them, evenings and weekends. So I know all the tricks. What freephone number to call. How to bypass the automated phone system. When to call, who to ask for and how to speak to them. I am prouder of this than my college degree, and it has probably been of more use. But Eircom, oh how they've tested me.
We signed up for a broadband bundle with them in January and have had shambolic service from them since. We're moving house on Saturday and I've been determined to take this opportunity to kick them to the kerb. They wanted a pay-off as we'd be breaking our contract with them. They couldn't decide on an appropriate fee, so I decided that they shouldn't impose one at all. And I finally got them to agree.
I AM THE CHAMPIONS.
What's more, I did it without calling anyone names or reducing anyone (myself included) to tears. I am, justifiably - I think, proud. Stacked up alongside my square-offs with An Post and the Passport Office earlier this year, I'm thinking I should consider a career change. I'd be the Supernanny Jo Frost of service providers. I could work from home. In my underpants. I could get superhero underpants, if that would make anyone feel better about it.
We sat down to dinner with friends last night and upon being asked how I was keeping, I said "Great! Today was a Really Good Day. I told Eircom to go fuck themselves!". Nobody applauded, which was disappointing, but I trucked on with my dull little story anyway, and my husband sat quiet and proud by my side. Later, when they asked about our holiday, I got all puffed up with self-righteousness again at the mention of our hire car. It had broken down on us and we were left for 24 hours without a car, then had to go on a €130 taxi ride back to the airport to get another (and the replacement car was a Kia. The injustice of it all!). I wanted our €130 refunded, plus monies for the 24 hours we spent without a car and monies for the downgrade from a Ford C-Max. "Maybe we should just let that one lie" said Andrew. "After all, we did fill their diesel car with petrol".
12 comments:
*applauds*
I would totally hire you as Service Provider Supernanny. My moxie usually runs out after the first two minutes and then my voice wobbles and I'm toast.
You should get a cape too, though.
of course. for my modesty.
I was going to say for the swishiness. Although that might be a distraction...
Well done, but even more so on finding a new place.
I'm cheering for you, Rosie!
And for the times you leave the house in whatever superhero getup you choose, I'll teach you how to part crowds with your eyes.
Good luck with the move.
Sticking it to the man , Rosie.
Think eircom are in trouble with managing stuff like this.
When I was changing , the internet was hooked up a couple of weeks in advance of the phone - without telling, eircom charged for all calls made during this intervening period ( our contract was for free unlimited calls) - I didn’t pay, they had broken the contract – they wrote letters – still didn’t pay – paid only line rental – last august they threatened legal stuff - still didn’t pay & told them why again- nothing since.
Think the eircom machine can’t cope anymore when the punter fights back – I have the file on my desk just in case there’s another twist – but really, cause I’m well proud :-)
Go Rosie! I would have totally applauded.
Wait.. wait... wait! How to bypass the automated phone system?
I've had limited success with this by saying things like "Agent" and "I fucking want to talk to a fucking real mother-fucking person right fucking now".
(I think I heard/read/dreamt at some point or another that if you say agent or sound sufficiently angry they put you through).
Is there a surefire way? I'd be willing to pay to learn it.
* Another thing I've learned is to always select the sales option in the automated menu. They seem to pick up quicker if they think they aren't already getting some of your cash each month. First impressions and all that...
Dublin Bus fear me, that is all I can say of the matter. It involved timetables and false advertising.
But wait, they gave you a diesel car it was possible to put petrol/essence into... and THEY think it's YOUR fault? Pfffft, the cheek of them.
So I have a friend in Germany, and when I post things to his home address, they do not arrive. Well, they did once or twice, enough to tease me.
The last thing I posted I did as a test - I registered it (it was brownies) and thought that if it didn't get there, at least I'd find out where all the parcels were going.
It never arrived, I kept checking on it, wrote in a complaint - and I've heard nothing. NOTHING. Registered, me arse.
Can you fix it for me, Wonderpants Woman?
i also set up our UPC digital telly and broadband ON MY OWN at the weekend. i was so proud of myself that i high-fived Andrew in the pub.
we're moved, thanks for the good wishes everybody. you're all invited to the housewarming (date TBC).
frame that contract, Sniffle, and hang it in your office as a certificate of competence.
sales is a good tip, BA. the bypass shortcuts depend on the provider - some have secret special numbers... always ask for a direct line, a name and staff number.
there was a funnel involved, Conan. but, in my defence, none of the pumps fitted and the funnel was used by a mechanic who'd called the nearest Ford garage for advice.
i've never had a go at Dublin Bus, but i did complain to Bus Eireann about one of their drivers being a massive racist. they were very helpful!
i dunno, Jo. test-post me some brownies til we see what happens.
or call Paul in An Post customer services; he got me a passport in a couple of hours after they lost my old one.
I queried them again, and the brownies were sent back to Ireland at the beginning of March. Germany said insufficient address, though the address was fine.
They just sent them back to me :/
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