Happy Halloween

I finally got one holiday right-on the day, too! Yes there is a God. And all the halloweenies will be out in force tonight. I don't mean the kids, I mean the adults (biologically, anyway). It's not even 9:15am and they're out getting rat-assed. This is the day when anything can happen-and does-because every villain is wearing a mask. Funny: the bigger the ego, the smaller the willy. Have you women noticed this? If you're just figuring this out now-what the hell! What took you so long?

I had a very underwhelming ten days since my last post. This was when I discovered that, the older I get, the shorter my fuse. I had a temper when I was growing up, but I thought that I had grown out of it. But now? Not so much.

Everything that could break-broke. One vacuum cleaner expired-very noisily-and I swore a few times, but then remembered that it was thirteen years old, and wasn't supposed to last more than around five years (the end of the extended warranty). I have a mini-stereo, sitting on a shelf, minding its own business, and it broke (fifteen years. Lucky me). The phone died, so I had to go out and buy another one. The final insult was when the broadband stopped working last week. That was it.

Everything that broke was really old, so I can be positive and say that at least they all lasted a long time. Add to that that nothing broke at Christmas, so I didn't have to brave the stampede of shoppers headed-well, everywhere. But the broadband? Grrrr....

This began a week-long fight with Virgin Media, the service provider of broadband, TV and phone-all of which decided to break down at once. I called it in. They didn't have a technician available until last Thursday. Okay, I said, give me a time. So I waited in, all afternoon, and nobody showed up, and nobody called, or texted to say that they had cancelled the appointment because a fault in the area had been fixed.

Did I go ballistic? Hell, yes. I had a go at the customer service people, who are located in Mumbai, and most of whom cannot speak English. I don't care where they are located. They could be on the moon, but at least hire people who can speak English. The last time I looked, I was in England. And before you start name calling, a huge number of customers are complaining to Virgin for that same reason: all services should be provided in this country, so that everyone can understand everyone else. And it got worse.

I had to fight all weekend to get a router sent so that I could change the defective one by myself. Easy: just unplug all the cables, plug in the new ones, call an activation number, and then restore the Virgin numbers onto my phone. Easy? Errr....no. Because Virgin, in their wisdom (of which they have none) sent the thing via a crappy service called Yodel. And Yodel is well known for never showing up, or showing up with broken packages. Did Yodel show up on Tuesday? I'll bet you know the answer to that.

To shorten a long story: I got through to Yodel and laid into them for 45 minutes, while they made incredibly feeble excuses. I laid into Virgin after that, and threatened to cancel my contract. I've been with them for ten years, I really was forceful (polite, no swearing, but very, very forceful).

Yesterday afternoon a Virgin technician arrived and changed the router. The whole thing took twenty minutes (he had to wait for everything to upload, then complete the installation). Then Virgin had the colossal nerve to email me and ask what I thought of the service. I told them. I hope that whoever read what I wrote still has a migraine.

I know that I said that I was going to retire from activism, quit fighting over things that I felt (and feel) are wrong. However...that doesn't seem to have worked out so well. When challenges present themselves, you cannot sit back and let people walk all over you. In the absence of having a weapon (forget that, I'd probably shoot myself by mistake), you just have to stand up, fight for your rights, and refuse to back down.

I told you about Toothless Terry the deranged tosser next door? A prime example of standing up for myself. Have I heard from the police? No. Have I heard from any of the senior managers? No. Am I carrying a can of mace with me wherever I go? Ummmm....I think I don't want to answer that, but I think that you already know the answer. Even if I got arrested for fighting back, I doubt that there would be a jury in the world that would convict me.

Maybe I would get a medal, or a lifetime supply of free flat whites at Starbucks.

It's Halloween. Maybe I'll just sit back and have a glass of wine.