Customer service? Pull the other one

WHAT KATI DID NEXT:

“Its my internet, I’m afraid, it just won’t connect and for some reason I can’t,” “Sorry can I just put you on hold for a moment?” “Oh OK.”

Woah whats this? Music? Far too loud, too dull, too odd.

“Surely not sir? We pay a company, somewhere down south, thousands of pounds to choose the most uplifting music we can find, for what is a basic exercise in ignoring our customers.

“Yes, we give away enormous amounts of our enormous profits, generated at your expense by the way, to companies based far away from here, to make sure that we are ignoring our customers in the most appropriate way.”

Oh yes, business man/woman, we get you, we know what you’re doing when you put us, the stupid ones, on hold for indeterminate amounts of time whilst you throw on the tunes, kick off your shoes and file your nails/eat your lunch/scratch your bum. We aren’t daft you know.

All we ever want from you is a basic answer to a generally basic question, generated more often than not, from a mistake, made by you/your manager/mainly your computer system.

There is no hidden agenda from us the stupid ones. We aren’t trying to trick you or catch you out, nothing of the sort. What’s more important to us is that you assess our problem, weigh up the appropriate response and divulge said response as speedily as possible.

Yet, here it comes. The holding technique. Muzak piped liberally into our bonces.

If not some overused classical nonsense, please Lord, not Vivald’s “Four Seasons” again, then some blinkin’ awful, themed contempary nonsense, like the “Things Can Only Get Better” tripe used by the Labour party in its 1997 election campaign.

A one song fits all, non-offensive, musically drab and dreary drone forced down our delicate little hearing pieces at a decibel level reminiscent of living below Manchester’s Terminal 1, intent on ensuring we either throw the phone out of the window or put the reciever back down.

Either way, you lot, yes you, business man/woman, you get to clear the phone lines, kick off your shoes and file your nails/eat your lunch/scratch your bum.

We’re not daft out here in the normal world you know. Oh and please don’t for a second, no, don’t think we’re not on to you.