Bet we have all felt like these customers in the past - Hopefully we
> have not made anyone Feel like this though !!!!
> A real-life customer complaint letter sent to NTL (from their
> complaints dept....)
> Dear Cret*ns,
> 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, resulting in
> my spending an entire Saturday sitting on my fat *rse waiting for your
> technician to arrive. When he did not arrive, 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 by playing with my b*llocks
> 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 15 telephone calls over 4 weeks my
> modem arrived... six weeks after I had requested it, and begun to pay
> for it.
> I estimate your internet servers downtime is roughly 35%... hours
> between about 6pm -midnight, Mon-Fri, and most of the weekend.
> I am still waiting for my telephone connection. I have made 9 calls
> on my mobile to your no-help line, and have been unhelpfully
> transferred to a variety of disinterested individuals, who are it
> seems also highly skilled b*llocksck 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 (and then been redirected to an answer machine
> informing me that your office is closed); that I will be transferred
> to someone 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 sh*t, that they had attained the holy w*nk-pot of
> god-awful customer relations, that no-one, anywhere, ever, could be
> more interested, 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 d*ckheads you truly are. You are
> sputum-filled pieces of distended rectum - incompetents of the
> highest order. British Telecom - sh*te though they are - shine like
> brilliant beacons of success, in the filthy puss-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 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 -quickly be replaced by derision, and even perhaps bemused
> rage.
> I enclose two small deposits, selected with great care from my cats
> 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 desiccated 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
> it's worthless employees.
> Have a nice day - may it be the last in your miserable short life,
> you irritatingly incompetent and infuriatingly unhelpful bunch of
> w*nkers.
> This is an actual letter sent to a bank in the US. The bank thought
> it amusing enough to publish it in the New York Times.
> Dear Sir,
> I am writing to thank you for bouncing the cheque with which I
> endeavoured to pay my plumber last month. By my calculations some
> three nanoseconds must have elapsed between his presenting the cheque,
> and the arrival in my account of the funds needed to honour it. I
> refer, of course, to the automatic monthly deposit of my entire
> salary, an arrangement which, I admit, has only been in place for
> eight years.
> You are to be commended for seizing that brief window of opportunity,
> and also for debiting my account with $50 by way of penalty for the
> inconvenience I caused your bank. My thankfulness springs from the
> manner in which this incident has caused me to re-think my errant
> financial ways.
> You have set me on the path of fiscal righteousness. No more will our
> relationship be blighted by these unpleasant incidents, for I am
> restructuring my affairs in 2000, taking as my model the procedures,
> attitudes and conduct of your very bank.
> I can think of no greater compliment, and I know you will be excited
> and proud to hear it. To this end, please be advised about the
> following:
> First, I have noticed that whereas I personally attend to your
> telephone calls and letters, when I try to contact you I am
> confronted by the impersonal, ever-changing, pre-recorded, faceless
> entity which your bank has become. From now on I, like you, choose
> only to deal with a flesh and blood person. My mortgage and loan
> repayments will, therefore and hereafter, no longer be automatic, but
> will arrive at your bank, by cheque, addressed personally and
> confidentially to an employee of your branch, whom you must nominate.
> You will be aware that it is an offence under the postal Act for any
> other person to open such an envelope. Please find attached an
> Application Contact Status which I require your chosen employee to
> complete. I am sorry it runs to eight pages, but in order that I know
> as much about him or her as your bank knows about me, there is no
> alternative. Please note that all copies of his or her medical
> history must be countersigned by a Justice of the Peace, and that the
> mandatory details of his/her financial situation (income, debts,
> assets and > liabilities) must be accompanied by documented proof.
> In due course I will issue your employee with a PIN number which
> he/she must quote in all dealings with me. I regret that it cannot be
> shorter than 28 digits but, again, I have modelled it on the number of
> button presses required to access my account balance on your phone
> bank service. As they say, imitation is the sincerest form of
> flattery.
> Let me level the playing field even further by introducing you to my
> new telephone system, which you will notice, is very much like yours.
> My Authorised Contact at your bank, the only person with whom I will
> have any dealings, may call me at any time and will be answered by an
> automated voice. By pressing Buttons on the phone, he/she will be
> guided through an extensive set of menus:
> 1. To make an appointment to see me.
> 2. To query a missing repayment.
> 3. To make a general complaint or inquiry.
> 4. To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there; Extension
> of living room to be communicated at the time the call is received.
> 5. To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping; Extension
> of bedroom to be communicated at the time the
> call is received.
> 6. To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature;
> Extension of toilet to be communicated at the
> time the call is received.
> 7. To transfer the call to my mobile phone in case I am not at home.
> 8. To leave a message on my computer. To leave a message a password to
> access my computer is required.
> Password will be communicated at a later date to the contact.
> 9. To return to the main menu and listen carefully to options 1 through
> to 8 The contact will then be put on hold, pending the attention of my
> automated answering service. While this may on occasion involve a
> lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for the duration. This month
> I've chosen a refrain from The Best Of Woody Guthrie:
> "Oh, the banks are made of marble
> With a guard at every door
> And the vaults are filled with silver
> That the miners sweated for"
> After twenty minutes of that, our mutual contact will probably know it
> off by heart.
> On a more serious note, we come to the matter of cost. As your bank
> has often pointed out, the ongoing drive for greater efficiency comes
> at a cost - a cost which you have always been quick to pass on to me.
> Let me repay your kindness by passing some costs back.
> First, there is the matter of advertising material you send me. This
> I will read for a fee of $20/page. Enquiries from your nominated
> contact will be billed at $5 per minute of my time spent in response.
> Any debits to my account, as, for example, in the matter of the
> penalty for the dishonored cheque, will be passed back to you. My new
> phone service runs at 75 cents a minute (even Woody Guthrie doesn't
> come free), so you would be well advised to keep your enquiries brief
> and to the point.
> Regrettably, but again following your example, I must also levy an
> establishment fee to cover the setting up of this new arrangement.
> Name
> Your humble client.