Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Customer Service - whassat?

On two different fronts, I feel an outbreak of warth in the near future, and like Vesuvius, I'm incapable of mild warth, which is one of the reasons why generally my warth levels are pretty low. On one front, there's absolutely nothing I can do except accept that the bargain deal I got was not quite the bargain it seemed at the time due to the use of the cheapest possible component in a rather crucial place, which is somewhat ill-advised. A proper component I could just have whipped off, even if it may have required getting yet another toy for the toolbox, and I have a replacement component sat here ready to use. But I can't do that as the extra fifty pence a proper component would cost was saved, and the one fitted is non-removable, except under destructively brute force. The replacement part I shall fit tomorrow (once I've destroyed this one to get it off) cost about eight quid. So it's a really, really dumb way to ensure a complete lack of repeat business at any point. And on the other front, I shall be needing the season ticket I paid for months ago but am unable to collect in person until it is required tomorrow, so I shall be queueing in the grand old traditional style, ready to get very, very cross indeed if the difficulties I have been led to expect do materialise. That's right, it's the start of the football season and that heady mix of despair and heartbreak shot through with occasional fleeting glimpses of virtually unfulfillable hope will be giving my blood pressure levels a thorough workout once again. In other news, I have reason to be gently pleased about something (the details of which will remain undisclosed), but it's important enough for me to note the fact. There's always good news somewhere!
Comments:
Warth Alert if you're going to use The Warth, at least spell it properly! It's The Warth, not just warth. "warth" is just a misspelling of wrath, and that's silly. And you call yourself a pedant.
 
I don't know why that quite is anonymous, but, you most likely knew it was me already, eh?
 
I am indeed a pedant, and you make my point for me very well.

When it comes to The Warth my skills are a lot closer to Luke's on Dagoba than the Yoda-like ability to conjure up a new mobile phone every two months, whether one is needed or not.

I just don't do complaining, and I sometimes struggle enough with telephone calls. Last time I returned something faulty to its source would be about 1993, apart from one recent exception where I was buying something on someone else's behalf. So I'd claim that my version of The Warth sounding like a lukewarm, half-arsed, ineffectual variant of the real thing would be perfectly appropriate.

And I'm aware that lacking the spontaneity to disagree sufficiently to make my point on the spot, as with a lot of other things I do need to mentally pre-rehearse reacting before stuff happens, though that's a whole other kettle of neuroses for another time.

As it turned out, there was nothing to complain about anyway, so everything's groovy. And yes indeed, I thought it was you straight away.
 
(the details of which will remain undisclosed)

*rolls eyes*

You didn't really think that I'd let that pass without a comment, did you?

Warth is good. Tomorrow I am intending to make the badly made-up teenage assistants in Top-Shop buckle under a letter from their boss (getting others to use Warth for you, also good) and then spend the money I get back for the substandard shoes they refused to refund.
 
There was a long, angry post to go here, but I've emailed it to you instead.
 
The long comment that turned into an email was followed by a long clearing the air telephone call.

For which I now feel a hell of a lot better.
 
Good. You dipstick.
 
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