onionbagblog
Offline & Face to Face
And so yeah, I door stepped Pipex HQ, demanding an explanation as to why the useless tossers have failed to provide me with my pre-paid broadband connection for the past thirty days. Don't even mention the four-figure sum in lost income. I foolishly didn't.
A fine way to spend a mid-week afternoon, dealing face-to-face with the Pipex puppet who I'm not supposed to have any contact with. But with the unhelpful help centre out-sourced over a thousand miles away, I looked a little closer to home for a fix. It's not as though I'm short on time, what with my main income source cut off sometime since pre-Glasto.
Yep, that long ago.
I sat down in the poncey West End settee reception area with Mr & Mrs Corporate Suit. I think it was the first time they had actually met a member of the great unwashed, and believe me, after a Sunny Stockwell to Tottenham Court Road sprint special, my yellow lycra and I certainly were cautioning on the 'un' side of washed.
I showed Mr & Mrs C.S. the onionbagblog logbook of Pipex failure.
Customer service?
FAIL.
Customer communication?
FAIL.
Lies, lies and damn lies?
Oh, pass actually.
And blimey Charlie, you never guess what? They only tried to flog me a phone service on top of my current package. I had to point out that this wouldn’t be a great deal of use to me:
'How would I be able to phone in and report Pipex broadband errors if I had a phone contract with you as well? That would mean daily visits to see you two on the poncey West End settee.'
The sales pitch came to an abrupt end.
Details were exchanged, grievances were put across and we agreed to stay in touch. It was like marriage guidance gone wrong on the modern interweb. It was all rather civilised; you break my legs and I say thank you when you offer me crutches.
And so I cycled back to obb HQ II, unsure what to make of the meeting. At least I feel I have finally used all avenues available to fix the fault. And there lies the problem - I'VE had to run my arse around town, trying to get back online. And don't forget I'm paying Pipex for the privilege as well.
It's all such an exhausting process: daily phone calls to the out-sourced unhelpful help centre, letter writing to Pipex HQ, door stopping Pipex HQ. Phew - it's a good job I haven't got my schedule full with freelancing commitments from home right now.
Back in the 80's and my anger and frustration was focussed on central Government. The Wicked Witch was the source of all evil, an identifiable figure in which to organise and protest around.
In the faceless, corporate, service-centred (ha!) world of Gordon's fag end Britain '08, all of my anger is now out-poured (not out-sourced) at some useless tosser transparent organisation. A big clap though for good 'ol Companies House, who helped me track down Pipex HQ to a central London address.
'What do we want?'
'High speed broadband for onionbagblogger!'
'When do we want it?'
'Um, some time in the next thirty days would be nice.'
Back at base and I received a phone call (BT landline, natch) from Mrs C.S.
'You've been put on high level escalation,' she informed me.
Blimey. I know I've been a bit down about all of this broadband nonsense, but it hasn't quite come to a lone walk out to the woods just yet.
'Are you at home?' she asked?
'Yep, I'm at home, and still offline,' I couldn't help adding.
'EXCELLENT!'
*she actually said that*
The end result is... a phone call from a Pipex engineer later in the afternoon.
Groundhog Day, good to go.
Short of storming the Pipex HQ barricades and nicking their broadband connection, there's not a lot else I can do. The 'escalation' aspect is at least accurate. What other line of service does it require the user to make the escalation in order to get results?
Dodgy heart: self-diagnosis and then you demand an operation sometime in the next thirty days?
I've heard similar tales over the past month during my time offline. Pipex aren't the only useless tosser ISP, but hey - they're MY useless tosser ISP.
Mr Engineer did call, although considerably later than was arranged. It certainly beats the half dozen or so times I’ve been stood up by a sweaty BT engineer in the past week.
I asked him how the work was going, having been reliably informed by my not very helpful helpline chap earlier in the day that:
'An engineer has been working on your case since 7:40 this morning. Rest assured, Pipex is doing everything to get you back online. Is there anything else Pipex can do for you, Sir?'
JUST GET MY BLOODY BROADBAND SORTED, YOU USELESS TOSSER!
But it was blanks all round from Mr Engineer.
'Um, We haven't been to the exchange yet.'
So what about the spare-part that I was told needed replacing? How about the tests that are being carried out on my line from the exchange? 7:40 this morning, my good man, and all that?
'I think something has been lost somewhere in the communication, mate.'
You don't say. Must have been lost along with my bloody broadband connection.
I'm still offline as I write, so...
Pipex = useless tossers
technorati: pipex, useless tossers
| Wednesday 30 July, 2008 |
And so yeah, I door stepped Pipex HQ, demanding an explanation as to why the useless tossers have failed to provide me with my pre-paid broadband connection for the past thirty days. Don't even mention the four-figure sum in lost income. I foolishly didn't.
A fine way to spend a mid-week afternoon, dealing face-to-face with the Pipex puppet who I'm not supposed to have any contact with. But with the unhelpful help centre out-sourced over a thousand miles away, I looked a little closer to home for a fix. It's not as though I'm short on time, what with my main income source cut off sometime since pre-Glasto.
Yep, that long ago.
I sat down in the poncey West End settee reception area with Mr & Mrs Corporate Suit. I think it was the first time they had actually met a member of the great unwashed, and believe me, after a Sunny Stockwell to Tottenham Court Road sprint special, my yellow lycra and I certainly were cautioning on the 'un' side of washed.
I showed Mr & Mrs C.S. the onionbagblog logbook of Pipex failure.
Customer service?
FAIL.
Customer communication?
FAIL.
Lies, lies and damn lies?
Oh, pass actually.
And blimey Charlie, you never guess what? They only tried to flog me a phone service on top of my current package. I had to point out that this wouldn’t be a great deal of use to me:
'How would I be able to phone in and report Pipex broadband errors if I had a phone contract with you as well? That would mean daily visits to see you two on the poncey West End settee.'
The sales pitch came to an abrupt end.
Details were exchanged, grievances were put across and we agreed to stay in touch. It was like marriage guidance gone wrong on the modern interweb. It was all rather civilised; you break my legs and I say thank you when you offer me crutches.
And so I cycled back to obb HQ II, unsure what to make of the meeting. At least I feel I have finally used all avenues available to fix the fault. And there lies the problem - I'VE had to run my arse around town, trying to get back online. And don't forget I'm paying Pipex for the privilege as well.
It's all such an exhausting process: daily phone calls to the out-sourced unhelpful help centre, letter writing to Pipex HQ, door stopping Pipex HQ. Phew - it's a good job I haven't got my schedule full with freelancing commitments from home right now.
Back in the 80's and my anger and frustration was focussed on central Government. The Wicked Witch was the source of all evil, an identifiable figure in which to organise and protest around.
In the faceless, corporate, service-centred (ha!) world of Gordon's fag end Britain '08, all of my anger is now out-poured (not out-sourced) at some useless tosser transparent organisation. A big clap though for good 'ol Companies House, who helped me track down Pipex HQ to a central London address.
'What do we want?'
'High speed broadband for onionbagblogger!'
'When do we want it?'
'Um, some time in the next thirty days would be nice.'
Back at base and I received a phone call (BT landline, natch) from Mrs C.S.
'You've been put on high level escalation,' she informed me.
Blimey. I know I've been a bit down about all of this broadband nonsense, but it hasn't quite come to a lone walk out to the woods just yet.
'Are you at home?' she asked?
'Yep, I'm at home, and still offline,' I couldn't help adding.
'EXCELLENT!'
*she actually said that*
The end result is... a phone call from a Pipex engineer later in the afternoon.
Groundhog Day, good to go.
Short of storming the Pipex HQ barricades and nicking their broadband connection, there's not a lot else I can do. The 'escalation' aspect is at least accurate. What other line of service does it require the user to make the escalation in order to get results?
Dodgy heart: self-diagnosis and then you demand an operation sometime in the next thirty days?
I've heard similar tales over the past month during my time offline. Pipex aren't the only useless tosser ISP, but hey - they're MY useless tosser ISP.
Mr Engineer did call, although considerably later than was arranged. It certainly beats the half dozen or so times I’ve been stood up by a sweaty BT engineer in the past week.
I asked him how the work was going, having been reliably informed by my not very helpful helpline chap earlier in the day that:
'An engineer has been working on your case since 7:40 this morning. Rest assured, Pipex is doing everything to get you back online. Is there anything else Pipex can do for you, Sir?'
JUST GET MY BLOODY BROADBAND SORTED, YOU USELESS TOSSER!
But it was blanks all round from Mr Engineer.
'Um, We haven't been to the exchange yet.'
So what about the spare-part that I was told needed replacing? How about the tests that are being carried out on my line from the exchange? 7:40 this morning, my good man, and all that?
'I think something has been lost somewhere in the communication, mate.'
You don't say. Must have been lost along with my bloody broadband connection.
I'm still offline as I write, so...
Pipex = useless tossers
technorati: pipex, useless tossers
| #permalink |
