No, I am not talking about Led Zeppelin’s song by the same name (and anyone who’s read 32AA might suspect what a huge fan I am of the boys), I am talking about. . .
When my dear mother-in-law passed away last year we were not sure what we we were going to do about the house. Oh Patient One’s siblings live on different continents, so they didn’t want to take it over. We were living in the Netherlands, and weren’t sure what we wanted to do, either.
So meanwhile, we arranged for the services to the house to be kept on and for the bills to be sent to our attorney here. Whatever happened, someone (me, and at times Oh Patient One) would have to make trips to the house to a) arrange for real-estate agents to come around, and b) to keep the high-maintenance gardens under control.
During one of my maintenance trips last summer I got a call from the Internet and phone provider. They’d seen that there was recent activity on the line (me, calling real-estate agents to get some more valuations done), and wondered if someone new was living here and if I would like the bill to be transferred to my name. I re-explained the situation, and advised them to keep sending the monthly bill to the attorney. I gave them the name and address of the attorney, again, because they didn’t have it on file (?) All sorted. Or so I thought . . .
Time went on, Oh Patient One and I decided to take over the house, and a couple of days after I moved in the phone and Internet services were cut off. I was intending to call and switch the service, but, you know, moving in is a busy process and I didn’t think that a couple of days would make a difference. Now, when I say the phone was cut off, I mean that I could receive calls but I couldn’t call out – except to the customer “help” line. Bearing in mind my previous unsuccess with customer helplines I took a deep, resigned breath and called. At least the call was free, I told myself, which was a positive point.
After much hanging around listening to piped music, and after being passed around from one rep to another, I finally got to speak to someone who could help me. So I re-explained the situation for the millionth time.
Rep No #1,000,000: “I’m sorry, I can see what’s happened. It’s clear that you contacted us about this, because the account holder is listed as deceased. But the monthly fee has accrued and hasn’t been paid. The account reached £130 and it triggered an automatic cut off.”
Me: “But. Haven’t you been sending the bills to our attorney? Because you haven’t been sending them to this address. I’ve been making frequent trips here. I’ve been opening all the mail. I would have sorted this out months ago.”
Rep No #1,000,000 (a bit sheepishly): “Er, I’m very sorry madam, but the bills have been sent electronically to your mother-in-law’s email.”
Me: “What?”
At this point I couldn’t help it. I had visions of Monty Python’s Dead Parrot sketch running in full color through my brain, and wondered if Rep No #1,000,000 was going to tell me that they thought my mother-in-law was just pining for the fijords. And then I had an idea.
Me: “How about I just pay the full amount now, and we switch the account to my name? Is that possible?”
Rep No #1,000,000: “That would be fine, madam.”
Except it wasn’t. When we got to part where he entered my debit card information the card was refused. This was worrying because I knew the balance of my bank account, and there shouldn’t have been a problem. So I gave him a credit card number instead, and that was also refused. So was the next card I tried.
I couldn’t believe it. Had I become a nonperson? At this point I gave up. I couldn’t call my bank or credit card companies because, you got it, I couldn’t make any calls.
The next day I went to my bank and, hey presto, my debit card was fine. Whew. So I decided to sort this all out in person in the local branch of my Internet/phone provider.
I re-explained the situation to the rep, told him all about my attempts to pay the bill, and he said I could pay the bill there and then and get re-connected in my name. Yay for progress!
Except when we got to the part where he entered my debit card details, guess what happened? My card was refused again. Fortunately, the rep managed to work out why. Although the account holder was listed as deceased, the account was also listed as closed. So the computer program was not allowing payment. The rep called head office to find out what to do.
After much to-ing and fro-ing with a colleague on the phone, and after I spoke at length with the colleague on the phone, and after the rep faxed a copy of my passport and card details to the colleague on the phone, it was finally sorted and I was promised reconnection within two days.
Meanwhile, I purchased a mobile phone. You all know how well that worked out for me.
PS. Update on the mobile phone. I accidentally dropped it on the floor, it fell to pieces, and since I put it back together again it is working just fine. Well, mostly. . .
[...] people and sort this out. Stoked by the rememberance of this experience with Dutch Tape Red, and this one with British Red Tape, the more indignant I got. I found the appropriate telephone number, called it, and totally [...]