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Blood On The Tracks
May. 3rd, 2007 08:44 amSo, there I am, on the train home at 12.45pm, just going through New Cross Station, when the mobile rings.
"Hello, it's the BT Engineer here. I was just wondering. Could we make the appointment tomorrow instead?"
"Well, not really, no. I'm on the train on the way home. In fact I'm just about to go through a tunnel. If you got me an hour or so ago, I might have been able to do something about it."
"Oh, OK, No problem". (Train goes through tunnel)
No man on the end of the line when the train exits the tunnel.
When I get home, I phone him back. He says that he's arranged for another guy to come.
"Any idea when he'll arrive?"
"Well, it'll be before five".
Of course, no-one came.
So, I then had to renegotiate the hell that is the BT automated phone "service" system. It informed me that the appointment was between 1pm and 6pm (as opposed to the arranged time of 2pm to 4.30pm). But, it does offer me the opportunity to divert calls to my mobile, until the line is fixed (and the automated system at least now accepts that there is a fault on the line). So, I turn Beethoven's Sixth up loud, start cleaning the window surrounds, and wait until 7pm, when I phone again.
This time, the automated "service" tells me something like "unfortunately, our engineer was unable to keep the appointment". Great. Instead of waiting in a queue, you leave a number and BT calls you back, eventually.
So, I headed downstairs to the kitchen, turned Rigoletto up loud, and started sanding down the kitchen door in preparation for varnishing.
Eventually, BT calls back. The girl tells me that she can't explain why the appointment was missed, because the engineers only provide that information when they write up their notes the following morning.
Why this kind of thing sends me into despair, I don't know. I think that it's the never-ending sequence of automated calls, the feeling that I have ceased to be a human being and that I am just a process in the machine. Whatever, but I can tell you that the sound of a man breaking down in despair gets a lot more out of customer services representatives than does anger.
So, BT is meant to be turning up tomorrow afternoon, between 1pm and 6pm.
Of course, if they can't fix it, that means I'll have the whole bank holiday weekend without internet access, which means I'll probably have to come into the office on the Monday in preparation for Tuesday morning. Thanks BT, thanks a lot. Let's just hope.
++++++++
A profits warning from Games Workshop this morning, plus news that 35 loss-making stores will be closed. All of this dates back to 2000 or 2001 when the first of the Lord of the Rings films was released. GW had the distribution deal on LotR figurines and it sold millions of them.
Now, once again we enter the land of "disconnect". From the company's point of view, the sensible thing would be to tell investors that this was a one-off, relatively short-term phenomenon, and to pay some special dividends. But, from an executive's point of view, it's better to say that this is a great example of the GW franchise, expand the company, open new stores, pay higher salaries, and get the money out of the company that way. Share price goes up, Share options are divested. Everyone is happy, waiting for the next LotR phenomenon that should be along "any day now".
Eventually, of course, the one-off nature of the LotR phenomenon becomes apparent, and the company shrinks again. Share price falls; everyone is unhappy. "Why didn't you just pay a special dividend?" scream today's fund managers. "Why didn't your predecessors ask us to do that at the time?" is the reply.
++++++++++
Meeting Mr Bowles for lunch today, and then back to the office because I still can't get any work done at home. Bed last night at 8.30. Clearly there are still some remnants of far-east time in my body. Online poker? What's that?
"Hello, it's the BT Engineer here. I was just wondering. Could we make the appointment tomorrow instead?"
"Well, not really, no. I'm on the train on the way home. In fact I'm just about to go through a tunnel. If you got me an hour or so ago, I might have been able to do something about it."
"Oh, OK, No problem". (Train goes through tunnel)
No man on the end of the line when the train exits the tunnel.
When I get home, I phone him back. He says that he's arranged for another guy to come.
"Any idea when he'll arrive?"
"Well, it'll be before five".
Of course, no-one came.
So, I then had to renegotiate the hell that is the BT automated phone "service" system. It informed me that the appointment was between 1pm and 6pm (as opposed to the arranged time of 2pm to 4.30pm). But, it does offer me the opportunity to divert calls to my mobile, until the line is fixed (and the automated system at least now accepts that there is a fault on the line). So, I turn Beethoven's Sixth up loud, start cleaning the window surrounds, and wait until 7pm, when I phone again.
This time, the automated "service" tells me something like "unfortunately, our engineer was unable to keep the appointment". Great. Instead of waiting in a queue, you leave a number and BT calls you back, eventually.
So, I headed downstairs to the kitchen, turned Rigoletto up loud, and started sanding down the kitchen door in preparation for varnishing.
Eventually, BT calls back. The girl tells me that she can't explain why the appointment was missed, because the engineers only provide that information when they write up their notes the following morning.
Why this kind of thing sends me into despair, I don't know. I think that it's the never-ending sequence of automated calls, the feeling that I have ceased to be a human being and that I am just a process in the machine. Whatever, but I can tell you that the sound of a man breaking down in despair gets a lot more out of customer services representatives than does anger.
So, BT is meant to be turning up tomorrow afternoon, between 1pm and 6pm.
Of course, if they can't fix it, that means I'll have the whole bank holiday weekend without internet access, which means I'll probably have to come into the office on the Monday in preparation for Tuesday morning. Thanks BT, thanks a lot. Let's just hope.
++++++++
A profits warning from Games Workshop this morning, plus news that 35 loss-making stores will be closed. All of this dates back to 2000 or 2001 when the first of the Lord of the Rings films was released. GW had the distribution deal on LotR figurines and it sold millions of them.
Now, once again we enter the land of "disconnect". From the company's point of view, the sensible thing would be to tell investors that this was a one-off, relatively short-term phenomenon, and to pay some special dividends. But, from an executive's point of view, it's better to say that this is a great example of the GW franchise, expand the company, open new stores, pay higher salaries, and get the money out of the company that way. Share price goes up, Share options are divested. Everyone is happy, waiting for the next LotR phenomenon that should be along "any day now".
Eventually, of course, the one-off nature of the LotR phenomenon becomes apparent, and the company shrinks again. Share price falls; everyone is unhappy. "Why didn't you just pay a special dividend?" scream today's fund managers. "Why didn't your predecessors ask us to do that at the time?" is the reply.
++++++++++
Meeting Mr Bowles for lunch today, and then back to the office because I still can't get any work done at home. Bed last night at 8.30. Clearly there are still some remnants of far-east time in my body. Online poker? What's that?
