Dear Readers,
I’m sorry to have to interrupt the fascinating accounts of my summer holidays, but I feel it is my beholden duty to recount my sorry encounter with the fucking dimwits at VirginMedia Broadband.
Having driven back home from Gloucester in a respectable 5 hours, 19 minutes and 35 seconds, I was looking forward to rejoining the 21st century and connecting to the internet at a speed rather faster than the 9 kbps on offer at The Premier Inn just outside Gloucester. But no, VMB had decided to have a massive network failure. My cable modem was not providing me with an external IP address and after having tried all the usual methods open to an IT professional such as myself, blessed with excellent deductive reasoning powers and skilled problem solving abilities – e.g. switching everything off and on again – it was clear that I could not connect to the internet. I resorted to the last refuge of the desperate – I called VMB helpdesk – this was my first mistake.
Having pressed enough random keys on my telephone to direct their help system and provide me with a good stab at this week’s lottery numbers, I heard an automated voice recount there was a problem in Edinburgh. I should have put the phone down at this point. Stupidly I thought I would confirm the problem with a human being and ask when it might be resolved. This was my second mistake.
The voice on the other end was distinctly sub-continental. I provided my account name and details, and was told there was no problem in my area. This was in direct contradiction to the recorded message I had just listened to and the facts. Why else would I be calling?
I had previously switched everything off and on. This saved myself and the script reader at the end of the phone 10 minutes of dithering and the first 3 pages of his script. He asked me whether I was connected to my wireless router? I told him that I was connected on a wired connection to my wired router with my netbook. He asked me to open Internet Explorer. WTF? Who the fuck uses IE?
I told him that I’m in IT, I know what I’m talking about and that I don’t use IE. I told him that I use Linux as it’s better in just about every way. This was my third mistake. No sooner were the words out of my mouth than I regretted uttering them. I knew what he would say next. I WAS RIGHT.
“I’m sorry Sir, VirginMedia does not support Linux.”
“You don’t have to support Linux, the operating system at my end does not matter, you have to provide me with an IP address and a connection so that I can reach the internet.”
“I can’t help you Sir.”
“Would you like me to connect a Mac to your cable modem?”
“Yes Sir, we support Macs.” In other words you have a script for handling Macs.
So after 20 minutes of restarting the cable modem, the Mac, releasing and renewing DHCP leases I was still not getting out.
I asked for an engineer to come out and see what the issue was with their cable modem and to bring a replacement.
“I’m sorry Sir, the problem is at your end, we have no reports of faults in your area and your cable modem is responding and functioning correctly. I cannot send you an engineer or a new modem.”
At this point I lost it.
I told him again what I had done. I told him again that I worked in IT. I told him again that I was not getting an IP address. He offered not one bit of help, even when I threatened to remove my business elsewhere. Nothing. I demanded to speak to his manager.
She too was located in the sub-continent and was reading a script. I gave up. Miraculously I did not swear in the entire 1 hour 20 minutes I was on the phone to these two idiots.
I checked the service status on VM’s site, using the only connected device I had available, my BB’s browser. Sure enough, Edinburgh was hit by a severe outage, which had started yesterday and would not be fixed until this evening, some 20 hours since first reported. Clearly the dotard script-readers at the other end of the world, had not been told that, despite the fact they could see my cable modem. I gave up again.
I switched everything off and on again and went off to clean my flat.
Four hours later, I was back on line. So bang goes their “No fault” theory.
So if the bearded one is listening, here Mr. Branson are some pointers:
1. Move the call centre back to the UK.
2. Make sure that if one part of your organisation knows there is a fault please tell the all the rest, even if they are on the sub-continent.
3. Provide the script readers with Linux skills. It will help them with Windows.
4. Try and employ people who can think outside the box, even if they have to work in one.
5. Take a shave.
What a great treat to come back home to! Fuckers.







