If you think I’ve been quiet, that’s not quite true. I’ve been hopping mad – with British Telecom.
As I reported on 25 August, I moved house and office. BT promised to have me on line on 30 August. Fair enough, I thought.
The man came on 30 August. He spent 5 hours around the office. A new line left the office and went to a poll. A cable came through the wall into a nice new router. It’s 99% done, he said. And then added the caveat. The 1% to do is under water. What, I asked? Where? Oh, between here and the exchange he replied. There’s a flooded duct and your new line is broken in there.
By Friday they reported they needed a frogman in breathing apparatus to make it work. Now they say the original man filled out the wrong form and he’s now on holiday so I have to wait for a few days for a new man to fill out the right form so he can ask the frogman to come and enter the duct.
It looks like I’m offline for a while. Which means the internet caf?© I’m in and I might get quite familiar with each other.
And I’ll quietly fume about the wisdom of granting a complete monopoly on telephone supply in the UK to a private company.
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