The English language at its best….

Below is a letter of complaint written by an absolute genius. This has been floating around the internet for a long time, but its still a bloody good laugh. If only we could all write like this.

I obviously take no credit for this superb piece of writing, but offer my humble admiration to whoever did. Enjoy.

Dear Cretins,

I have been an NTL customer since 9th July 2001, when I signed up for your 3-in-one deal for cable TV, cable modem, and telephone.

During this three month period I have encountered inadequacy of service which I had not previously considered possible, as well as ignorance and stupidity of monolithic proportions.

Please allow me to provide specific details, so that you can either pursue your professional prerogative, and seek to rectify these difficulties – or more likely (I suspect) so that you can have some entertaining reading material as you while away the working day smoking B&H and drinking vendor-coffee on the bog in your office.

My initial installation was cancelled without warning or notice, resulting in my spending an entire Saturday sitting on my fat arse waiting for your technician to arrive. When he did not arrive at all, I spent a further 57 minutes listening to your infuriating hold music, and the even more annoying Scottish robot woman telling me to look at your helpful website….how?

I alleviated the boredom to some small degree by playing with my testicles for a few minutes – an activity at which you are no doubt both familiar and highly adept.

The rescheduled installation then took place some two weeks later, although the technician did forget to bring a number of vital tools – such as a drill-bit, and his cerebrum.

Two weeks later, my cable modem had still not arrived. After several further telephone calls (actually 15 telephone calls over 4 weeks) my modem arrived … a total of six weeks after I had requested it, and begun to pay for it.

I estimate that the downtime of your internet servers is roughly 35%…these are usually the hours between about 6pm and midnight, Monday to Friday, and most of the useful periods over the weekend.

I am still waiting for my telephone connection. I have made 9 telephone calls on my mobile to your no-help line this week, and have been unhelpfully transferred to a variety of disinterested individuals, who are it seems also highly skilled bollock jugglers.

I have been informed that a telephone line is available (and someone will call me back), that no telephone line is available (and someone will call me back), that I will be transferred to someone who knows whether or not a telephone line is available (and then been cut off), that I will be transferred to someone who knows whether or not a telephone line is available (and then been redirected to an answer machine informing me that your office is closed), that I will be transferred to someone who knows whether or not a telephone line is available (and then been redirected to the irritating Scottish robot woman…. and several other variations on this theme.

Doubtless you are no longer reading this letter, as you have at least a thousand other dissatisfied customers to ignore, and also another one of those crucially important testicle-moments to attend to.

Frankly I don’t care, it’s far more satisfying as a customer to voice my frustrations in print than to shout them at your unending hold music.

Forgive me, therefore, if I continue.

I thought BT were shit, that they had attained the holy piss-pot of god-awful customer relations, that no-one, anywhere, ever, could be more disinterested, less helpful or more obstructive to delivering service to their customers. That’s why I chose NTL, and because, well, there isn’t anyone else is there?

How surprised I therefore was, when I discovered to my considerable dissatisfaction and disappointment what a useless shower of bastards you truly are.

You are sputum-filled pieces of distended rectum – incompetents of the highest order. British Telecom – wankers though they are – shine like brilliant beacons of success, in the filthy pus-filled mire of your seemingly limitless inadequacy.

Suffice to say that I have now given up on my futile and foolhardy quest to receive any kind of service from you. I suggest that you do likewise, and cease any potential future attempts to extort payment from me for the services which you have so pointedly and catastrophically failed to deliver – any such activity will be greeted initially with hilarity and disbelief – although these feelings will quickly be replaced by derision, and even perhaps a small measure of bemused rage.

I enclose two small deposits, selected with great care from my cat’s litter tray, as an expression of my utter and complete contempt for both you, and your pointless company.

I sincerely hope that they have not become dessicated during transit – they were satisfyingly moist at the time of posting, and I would feel considerable disappointment if you did not experience both their rich aroma and delicate texture.

Consider them the very embodiment of my feelings towards NTL, and its worthless employees.

Have a nice day – may it be the last in your miserable short life, you irritatingly incompetent and infuriatingly unhelpful bunch of twats.

Yours psychotically,

Author: Mark S Thompson

Okay, so these things are kind of hit and miss. If you’re reading this then I am thankful to you for taking the time out of your day to do so. I’ll be honest, when I think of myself as a writer, I kinda cringe. Don’t get me wrong, it is the dream, it's​ just I never really believe it will go anywhere. When I think back to the day that I first knew I loved writing, and I mean really knew, I see myself sitting in an English lesson at secondary school. The school was called Wrotham and is in the county of Kent, England. As far as I know, it's still there. English was far and away my favourite subject. The best bit was when the teacher gave the class a selection of words and asked us to make up a story that either contained those words or was about those words, you know. At other times we would be given the first sentence and then write what happens next. Good times. Many times my work would reflect what I had recently read and it would be okay. Nothing special, just okay. On one occasion though I wrote about a merman called Finchy and can remember going into so much depth and detail about him and the underwater kingdom he lived in. I really enjoyed writing that and it must have shown because my teacher commented on it. She was really impressed and loved the story. That was it for me, my moment. Now when I write I think back to those great times and to that story. Hopefully, I’ll write something that you, the reader, will be moved to comment on. For me, there is no greater elixir

4 thoughts on “The English language at its best….”

  1. I had my own run-in with NTL. My final letter to them read thusly:-

    To Whom It May Concern

    Please excuse the vitriolic nature of this letter; however, I feel that it is the least I am entitled to as a result of the appalling manner in which your ‘organisation’ has treated me. (Note the specific use of the word ‘organisation’ in inverted commas. Organisation implies that NTL are organised. This is further from the truth than I can start to explain).

    In order that you may simply and effectively deal with this email, I have broken it down in summary form as, quite frankly I am sick to the back teeth of explaining the situation in full to a variety of ever-increasingly unhelpful staff. They may actually be robots. At one point, this might have interested me. Now I couldn’t care less. And that’s *serious*. Because you know? Robots? Wow.

    Anyway, I digress.

    I present the following points.

    From four weeks before the date I moved house (4th December), I constantly attempted to get in touch with your moving department. The number was permanently engaged, and on the few occasions I wasn’t met with constant beeping, I was happily informed that the offices were now closed. Hey, thanks for that!

    Hard as it may be to believe, your customers work, too. I cannot spend an entire day attempting to contact an apparently un-contactable department. I am not that much of a masochist.

    As a consequence of the above, I attempted to speak to your billing department to explain that I no longer wished to use NTL services either for TV, telephone or broadband and that I wished to cancel my account and requested a final bill. My word, that was amusing.

    I was told ‘no, you need to speak to the moving department, here’s a direct number, try that one.’

    With a creeping sense of anticipation tinged with an aura of sheer dread, I tapped the numbers into my phone. Guess what? That’s right! Permanently engaged! I tried ringing billing on no less than five occasions, each time to be told that this had to be done through the moving department.

    Eventually my only option was to cancel my direct debit, telephone you when I had moved and explain why I had cancelled the direct debit and request – for the sixth time – a final statement of account until 3rd December 2004 to be sent on so that I could settle with you.

    On 3rd December, I rang the moving department and was astonished to actually get a ring tone. After sitting on hold for no less than 45 minutes, I was told that ‘no, you need to speak to cancellations’. They transferred me. Cancellations said ‘no, you need to speak to moving’. Before I could even draw a breath, they transferred me. To an engaged line. A veritable whirlwind of transferred calls. I was left dizzy and had to go and lie down to recover.

    On 6th December, I rang through to billing and spoke to a (surprisingly) helpful young man who said ‘well, yes, we CAN cancel the account here. And I can arrange collection of your hardware. Give me your new address and I’ll sort all that out for you’. Hurrah! My faith was restored. Here was a genius amongst morons! A rose amongst the weeds! A gemstone amongst the dull, leaden rocks…

    Excuse me, my imagination got the better of me.

    On 18th December at 9.30a.m., a pleasant young man arrived to reclaim my hardware. This is not some kind of euphemism, so cease your childish snickering. Note this, because it’s important. This pleasant young man arrived AT MY NEW HOUSE, to reclaim my hardware.

    Today, 21st December you sent me a letter (forwarded from my OLD address) saying ‘ooh, you cancelled your direct debit, why’s that then?’

    I leave you to work out why I am so blisteringly furious at your incompetence and to make it simple for you request the following.

    1. Send a final statement up to and including 3rd December 2004 to my new address. Which you have. Otherwise how could you have sent someone to fetch the hardware?

    2. Explain to me exactly why your ‘organisation’ is allowed to be run in this way and still remain in business.

    I cannot express enough how disappointed I am that our relationship should end this way and rest assured that I will not be recommending NTL services to anybody at any time in the future. I am amazed, and saddened that you feel you can run a company on such an appalling standard of customer service (although this may be an oxymoron).

    I await your comments and my final statement of account with great interest, although given your showing so far, I entirely expect to receive a vat of custard addressed to ‘The Homeowner’.


  2. I used to work for NTL in Crown House in Ipswich from 2000 to 2003, though thankfully I never had any direct contact with those irritating and bothersome ‘customers’. I was back room techy staff, on arrival I went into a locked darkened room and never came out for 12 hours. The only people I ever talked to were other techy types from other organisations, end-user customers were right off my radar.

    There’s a good reason why NTL had such a shocking customer service around that time, and it was caused by the fact that NTL had swallowed several smaller cable customers and was having a real headache trying to integrate the different billing and record systems. It was a nightmare trying to navigate round these systems, and as NTL were frantically trying to combine them into one super-system the office staff and call handlers went into meltdown. So we were left with hordes of dissatisfied customers and a well-deserved reputation for cocking things up.

    No me, though….. I was a beacon of efficiency in the background, right until the time they made me redundant 🙂


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