It was time to renew our home insurance. Our provider sent us a bill and like last year, it had gone up in price, despite the fact we haven’t made a claim ever. How does that work? Unlike last year, when we were lazy and just accepted that our policy would be automatically renewed, we took it upon ourselves to go onto the internet to compare prices. Santander quoted us £170. This is compared to another insurance company who offered us exactly the same deal for just over £60 AND we get a free meerkat for switching!
I rang Santander to tell them the news that we were dumping them. After crying a little, the man on the end of the phone offered me a reduced quote of £109. This kind of begs the question, why weren’t we offered this price originally. However, that is still a lot more than our other quote, so we went our separate ways.
I trust the new insurance company to be good and not have any nasty hidden surprises. If I find anything I don’t like, the meerkat gets it.
It takes a lot to annoy me, when it comes to dealing with companies. OK, that’s a lie, there’s a Me Vs. The World category on this very blog! I have to deal with customers in my job and like to think I offer a good, friendly service. I sometimes have to deal with angry people, and it’s not nice. That is why I try to be pleasant to the person on the end of the phone, whenever it is me making a complaint… unless, of course, I know I am speaking to the person who is personally to blame, in which case, I turn into the Incredible Hulk – “raaar!”. The manager of Argos in Bath experienced my rage once.
Basically, I don’t get angry with people I ring, of those who call me, very often. The other day was an exception. I received a call from an unknown number. Stupidly, I answered it. Why did I do that? I NEVER answer calls from withheld numbers? If you want to speak to me, at least have the common decency not to hide your number. I answered the call…
Them: “I am calling about the car accident you had recently”
Me: “What car accident?”
Them: “I’m afraid I can’t tell you”
Me: “I haven’t had a car accident, what are you calling me about?”
Them: “I can’t tell you”
Me: (getting frustrated) “Why?”
Them: “Because of Data Protection”
This is when I got mad. The girl calling me – who I eventually got to admit was named Zoe, calling from First Call – was basically calling random numbers (by her own admission), asking people about their car accident, in the off chance they do reach some poor sod who has been unlucky enough to give actually been involved in such an event. It is extremely sneaky and should be illegal, if it is not already. I couldn’t even find a company relating to law firms called First Call, when I looked on Google. Therefore, either Zoe was lying to me (if that is her real name), or First Call are phoning people on behalf of well-known companies. Very naughty.
I asked Zoe to be put through to their complaints department. Unsurprisingly, they don’t have one. If they did, no doubt they would receive more calls than the 999 telephone line. I was informed that I would be taken off their “list”, although I bet it’ll be a matter of days before I get another call regarding my traffic accident, plane crash or dinosaur attack.
Really, this wasn’t Zoe’s fault. The poor girl must know she is pissing off every single person she rings. In fact, I would rather she do that job than sign on the dole. The people I take issue with are the owners and directors of these marketing companies. They must make loads of money. It should be the law, that if you want to open one of these harassment phone-lines, that you publish your personal contact details on the internet. Then, everyone you have annoyed with nuisance calls, can ring you at all hours of the night, and wind you up too!
Last Friday, I was expecting a delivery (for those nosy and wanting to know what it is, it was this). Hermes were the courier company put in charge of delivering my order. I’ve had a few issues with them in the past, and looking on the internet, I’m not the only one. When I was at work and checked in on my order online, I was pleased to see it had been delivered. Pleased, but then alarmed. This was because the status of the order was “Delivered To Shed”. This would normally be all well and good. After all, a shed should be a safe, secure place to leave a parcel. The problem was, I don’t have a shed!
I am getting harassed. A number I do not know keeps ringing my mobile phone. The suspicious number in question is 01709 765330. At first, I missed these calls as I was at work and had my phone on silent. I then then did some research into the number. The dialling code, 01709 belongs to the Rotherham area. Who in South Yorkshire could be trying to ring me? I may have blogged the occasional comment about Rotherham United’s manager, Steve Evans. Could it be him calling to congratulate me on my excellent website? I somehow doubt it.
After doing some more digging around on the internet, I found lots of web forums, where people were posting their distress and annoyance at receiving frequent calls from the very same number I am currently having issues with. While it is evident that this is a sales call, I haven’t been able to find any confirmation of the company behind it, although many claim it to be Vodafone or one of the company’s affiliates.
Quite frankly, I don’t care if it is Vodafone or Frank Butcher calling to offer me a cheap second hand motor, I want the calls to stop. I must have received 10 in the past week. Can’t whoever is ringing me take the hint that “I AM NOT INTERESTED” – it is becoming harassment now. I have read that you can sign up to have your number excluded from certain marketing calls, but why the fuck should I?
Tell you what, whoever is behind that dodgy number, let the world know who you are and tell them all your telephone number. Then people can ring you at whatever time they choose? You call me, I call you. Seems fair enough to me. Something tells me you wouldn’t agree.
I have now set my phone to ‘auto reject’ the number, but am still getting text messages telling me I’ve had missed calls from it. I only wish I could direct that specific number to a voicemail message from Father Jack Hackett, telling them to “Get to feck”.
It takes a lot to make me angry. Sure, I get pissed off on Saturday afternoons when referees give a bad decision against Bath City, or Leeds lose for the 20th time in a row. Generally, I get over such a trauma by the next day. I sometimes feel annoyed at work, but doesn’t everyone? Courier companies have been known to grind my gears too – especially when they throw your parcel over the garden wall – I’ll refrain from mentioning who this was, to save them embarrassment *Cough! Hermes…*
This evening, however, I did get mad. On the walk home from work, I saw lots of men wandering my street with clipboards. They were ringing lots of door bells. Our road seems to get targeted by charity muggers – aka ‘chuggers’ – on a frequent basis. I naturally thought that the clipboard-holding-door-knockers were of that group.
I reached my house and opened the front door, just as one of these ‘men’ were approaching my neighbours. The mystery man clocked me and I clocked him. I entered the house and warned Claire to expect the doorbell to ring and to ignore it.
As predicted, it rang. We ignored it. Somebody bashed the door, with what sounded like an industrial tool. Either Jack Nicholson’s mad, murderous character from The Shining was outside with an axe, or the man with the clipboard was desperate to speak to me. A few minutes passed and the doorbell rang again. I had enough. I answered the door.
A short, plump, balding man was on my doorstep. His chubby hands clutched a blue clipboard. He introduced himself “I’m from the Conservative Party”. That is when I went mad. I was brought up always eat my peas and carrots, but to also despise the Tories, and now that I am old enough to vote and do my own research, I totally agree with my parents’ decision to vote against them. I replied “I would never vote Tories!”. The man looked a little taken aback. He questioned who I intended to vote for in the next General Election. Rather rude. I told him that I would rather not say. I wouldn’t ask him personal questions like what he had for breakfast or the colour of his underpants. I was asked who I voted for last time. I informed him that it was Liberal Democrats, who I wouldn’t be voting for again as they joined forces with the Tory Boys.
I don’t think he’ll be coming round again…
On this website, you’ll find me blogging (almost) daily about everyday life, living in Bath, working with computers, and the occasional bit of football stuff thrown in.
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