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Friday, 19 June 2009

I had to phone a helpline today, one of those really annoying automated ones that makes you go through 8 options to get to another 7, to get to another 8, to get you to key in various numbers t get cut off.

So this happens twice, then I get instruction to key in the relevant numbers one digit at a time. How stupid do they think I am?Why would I press more than one button at the same time. I can only assume there is an inflated call rate that they try and fill in with as many useless instructions they can think of. I was going to pose the question to Cheryl, my call handler but she made it obvious fairly early on that she was devoid of humour. They got their moneys worth.

Still, at least now I have been told - I have stopped trying to dial two numbers at the same time. The whole process took twice as long as necessary because every time it got to the bit when they ask you to say yes or no, the Bitch would bark and the automated voice would tell me that he had failed to recognise my instruction.

By this time, I felt like I was dealing with insanity. Then the lovely old lady that rents us her garage knocked at my door. She is appalled at the state of the garage and demanding it is cleared. She has apparently written to 'It' demanding that he clear it. I then have to explain that in the many years that he rented it, I never got to see in it. This is just one of the many things that were very strange. Despite many, many requests, he resolutely refused to let me have a key to gain entry. He had the same philosophy with his office keys, anyone else could use them but me - no chance.

So I get to see inside the garage for the firs time. It is a bit messy. 'It' has used the cover for my vintage swinging seat as floor matting, my crockery is broken, my wardrobe is broken and my lampshade is unsurprisingly broken. None of this is particularly surprising when three exhaust pipes and a host of bikes have been slung on top. The other side, rented by a neighbour, looks like a news24 bulletin for an earthquake appeal.

I then get a stern telling off by the old lady, who informs me I need to hire a skip and get rid of everything in the garage. I compromise and tidy it but as I do, I ponder why, if I actually emptied the garage, what the point would be in paying rent.

Sometimes it seems like everyone around me is ever so slightly insane.


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