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So, in my last post I promised you the sad tale of the Internet and TV switchover from the old apartment to the new one. I thought it would be so easy, so straightforward, such a simple thing to arrange. Oh, but I was wrong . . .

Before we moved out of the old apartment (we had an overlap of two weeks) I dialed the 0900 TEN EURO CENTS PER MINUTE customer rip-off number, got through to the obligatory automated system, waded through all the sub menus, and finally got to speak to a representative. I explained (again, in my truly awful Dutch) what it is that I wanted, and was rather shocked at what she said to me.

Very Nice Rep: “Oh, that’s no problem. I can see from our computer system that your new apartment already has all the necessary outlets and a cable connection. It will take about two or three working days for your request to be processed, and in the meantime you will also have Internet/TV connectivity at your old place, too.”

Me (once I have recovered from the lack-of-a-problem shock and pulled myself up off the floor): “Oh. That’s fantastic! It’s so easy!” Then, just a little suspiciously. “It seems too easy. Are you sure that I don’t need to do anything else?”

Very Nice Rep (laughing): “You don’t need to do anything else. It’s all taken care of.”

This was fabulous, this was wonderful, we were planning on sleeping at the new apartment from Friday (three days later), so we’d have the Internet and the TV straight away! Yay!

Anyway, we moved the beds, TV, computers, and modem over to the new apartment so that we could finally sleep there and be connected and . . . we couldn’t find the right outlets to plug the modem and TV into. Honestly, we looked and looked, but the ones in the corner of the living room were obviously the wrong shape and size for our equipment. Oh Patient One and I search everywhere. I just knew nothing could be that easy.

So Monday morning I trundled back to the old apartment to call the expensive 0900 customer rip-off number again. After a gazillion years (felt like) I got through to a real human being and explained the problem.

Very Nice Rep #2: “Are you sure you checked everywhere? Our computer system indicates that you have the outlets and the cable. Your service has been activated. You should be connected.”

Me: “There is a white box with two outlets, but they’re the wrong shape and size for our TV and Internet.”

Very Nice Rep #2: “I don’t understand!” Me, either. But after a moment or two of silence while Very Nice Rep #2 thought it through, he added, “Did you check the closet where your electrical fuses are located? There should be a white box with a green cable coming into it.”

Me (now hitting my forehead with the base of my palm): “Um, no. We didn’t think to check in there. Okay, white box, green cable. I’ll have to check, but in the meantime can we make an appointment for installation, anyway?”

Very Nice Rep #2: “I can wait if you want to check now.”

Of course, then I had to launch into an explanation about the telephone, and how I had to come to the old apartment to use it, and couldn’t actually check the closet in the new apartment from the old apartment. He explained that I couldn’t have an appointment until I’d checked, so I hung up, trundled back to the old apartment, and . . . there was no white box with a green cable in the electrical closet. Of course there wasn’t!

The next day I trundled yet again back to the old apartment, did the 0900 thing, waited about for ages, etc., got to speak to Very Nice Rep #3 (who told me my Dutch was better than his English, which it clearly wasn’t, but it was nice of him to say so), and made an appointment for the electrician to pay me a visit in two days’ time between 12 noon and 6 in the evening. Finally, I would have the Internet and TV. I’d be back in the 21st century again!

Guess what. I waited in all day and the guy didn’t show.

“Why don’t you call them on your cell phone?” Oh Patient One soothed me that evening, because by now I was not a very happy bunny. Cell phone. Good idea. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

I checked the credit on my pay-as-you-go phone (the only way I can have my very own phone rather than a plan in Oh Patient One’s name–I know it should be possible to get a plan in my own name. I I tried awhile ago and just couldn’t deal with all the bloody Red Tape involved). I had about 20 Euros credit (roughly $29.50 – that should be enough, right?).

Next day I called the 0900 number, and after I listened to the warning message that although this call cost 10 Euro cents per minute on a regular phone, it would probably be more on a cell phone, and after I did the automated voice system thing, I finally got through to a rep after about twenty minutes. We did the whole history, blah, blah, and finally:

Very Nice Rep #4: “I’m sorry, madam. My previous colleague made the wrong kind of appointment for you. We tried calling you to let you know, but nobody answered.”

Gah. I forgot to give them my cell phone number. They were calling the old apartment!

Very Nice Rep #4: Let’s make you an appointment for an engineer to come around.”

Progress! The ‘right’ kind of appointment. At last.

Very Nice Rep #4: “Sorry, madam, our booking system is slow today, can you wait for a few minutes?”

Me (worrying about the diminishing credit on my cell phone, because I have no idea how much it’s being charged for this call): “Um, fine, fine.”

Several minutes passed . . .

Very Nice Rep #4: “I have an appointment for you. Would it be convenient for you on–”

And then my cell phone died. Right at that precise moment. I kid you not.

About an hour later, after having trekked back to the old apartment, teeth gnashing, steam coming out of ears, I finally got to speak to another rep and I was told that I would have to wait two weeks for the right kind of appointment. Gah!

When the electrician finally turned up two weeks later (the appointment was for between 12 noon and 7pm – he turned up at 11.30 am so it was a good job someone was home to let him in) he took one look at our connector. We did have all the necessary connections (although no green cable was in evidence). We just needed the appropriate adaptor, available for a small cash sum at all reputable computer stores . . .

We could have been online two weeks earlier! But surely nothing else could go wrong with our move. Surely we’d had our share of sheer bloody incompetence.

Guess what? We were wrong on that occasion, too.

Coming soon – The Story of the Keys

Michelle