A technophobe at large

The man from Virgin Media Customer Services.....a contradiction in terms.....made the mistake of telephoning me. I was poorly last Thursday and had to come home from work in the morning. You know how it is: feeling run down, full of aches, in and out of the loo and generally miserable. For someone who rarely watches the box, all I wanted to do was snuggle down on the settee and watch rubbish on the TV. Good job I live in England then. The bad news being that I'm with Virgin. There was no TV. Or internet and owing to the fact that readers know I live in the Twilight Zone, no phone. I was explaining all of this to my new friend, Liam, at Virgin who I could tell had lost the will to live. I had already reported it to his colleagues in Mumbai but, as my upset stomach and general flu-like symptoms did not appear on their feed-back list of responses, they were unable to help. As I told Liam, this is not me being racist; I don't care who they are...I care where they are and what script they have. Liam said a lot of folk say this. Well, there's a surprise then.

On Saturday, a technician arrived to tell me that the reason I had no communication facility was because a neighbour had made the mistake of signing up with Virgin. As they wanted to create a positive first impression, and as there was 'no more room in the box', they had disconnected me. I've often been told I function outside the box but this is the first tangible evidence. Anyway, I shared this with Liam too. And the fact that I'm being 'cut back'. I don't know this lingo any more than I know Italian but I know I'm not getting the broadband speed I pay for. 'Do you mean you're affected by traffic management?' asked Liam. Possibly. He then donned his Spanish Inquisition party outfit to enquire what I was trying to download/upload/transfer etc etc. Pictures of Robert de Niro? The odd photo attachment to my parents? The Waitrose Instant Christmas Dinner portfolio?

'Liam, it must be clearly obvious that I have no idea what I'm talking about and all I want to do is let my parents and other bored people know what's occurring'. That's when Liam became my friend. We have now exchanged phone numbers...ones that only put you through to the UK...and email addresses. The man's on a mission. I have refunds and am on an official no-pay policy until they can resolve local problems.

'Well, Liam, let me tell you about my son, a poor starved student in Swansea who is also having terrible problems with Virgin.' I swear I could hear him sharpening the razor blades.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xokHofcS3ik&feature=related