"EE-LEC-TRICITY…."

This morning, instead of getting up and writing, I decided that I'd rather have the extra hour in bed (which probably shows where my priorities are at the moment) and so I did.

In recent years, during an evening like yesterday evening, one in which I'd been left all alone to my own devices, I might have spent the time composing more postings of a pithy and thoughtful nature but instead, once again I perched myself in front of the TV set, inserted a DVD into the player, and continued with my latest box set marathon rather than adding to this sometimes seemingly endless stream of blogging nonsense.

So, what are you going to do about that, then…?

Anyway, the scribblings below represent a tidied up version of a tedious rant that was bothering me yesterday, most of which you may have already read in another place.

"Ee-lec-tricity… Eee-lec-tricity…"

Well, the tune does kind of get stuck in your head when you're hanging on for an hour and the "on hold" music seems to be a compilation of songs featuring lyrics that are vaguely "electricity" or "power" related…

Has anyone ever got through to Scottish Power by phone...? It's made more complicated because I'm not actually "A Customer" but I've been rather dutifully trying to remind them that they've not sent a final bill for my mother's place, which we completed on over two weeks ago, on the very day we supplied them with the requisite numbers from the meters and specifically telling them the billing address - mine - that they should use.

Interestingly, after an hour on the phone listening to tunes that might once have been considered "groovy" but which probably irritate the hell out of just about everyone who calls them, dinner was ready so we had to hang up.

I had cooked.

By this point I'd already handed the receiver to the Beloved, made a cup of tea, and washed up whilst the tinny tunes rattled on with occasional interruptions telling us how much they appreciated our custom.

Now, of course, I have visions of a "call centre" employing just one little old lady called Mrs McCreedy and an exchange that resembles the one in "Whisky Galore!" with jackplugs and wires and so forth.

Later on, instead of starting this farce all over again, I decided upon a different approach and I wended my weary way through the maze that is their "contact us" option on the website,  much of which demanded information that I couldn't supply because I still wasn't "A Customer" but merely someone trying very, very hard to make an enquiry, and I was wading through this hell in order to send a polite explanatory email.

So I went through various hoops trying to do that. I encountered lots of mandatory red boxes to tick none of which were relevant, and a "compulsory" box to complete ('with numbers only') for your Gas Meter reading, even though the flat was not connected to the gas supply. In the end I just put lots of zeroes in, which means that they'll probably ignore it, but I completed my business.

They don't make it easy but, having finally got a message of some kind through to them - although I remain fully convinced that I might have been better putting a note in a bottle and chucking it in the nearest river - I waited for a reply.

And waited…

And waited…

Eventually I decided to have a look on TwitWorld, just to see if anyone else has had similar experiences, and it turns out that this is not an uncommon situation, with various people saying that they'd had to wait anything up to two and a quarter hours to get connected, sometimes after having had the phone put down on them after finally getting through.

People suggested that complaining via TwitWorld does get the attention of the P.R. Department rather than Customer Services, and is sometimes more effective, but the complaints I read didn't look as if anyone had replied to them or seemed to give a rat's kidney, to be honest.

Still... It's not really MY problem, I suppose, if they don't want to make it easy for me to pay them, after all, I usually find that such companies are quick enough to get in touch if you fall behind on your payments, and I'm sure that they'll get in touch eventually.

I, of course, just want to get the whole wretched business over with, but that's not their priority, I suppose.

All of which basically shows that life remains, as ever, one of those situations where the house always wins.