Amongst the boom industries of recent years, involving mobile phones and sugary bacardi drinks and search engines are bailiffs. There are thousands of the bastards, sending out letters packed with language that once would have only been used in The Sweeney. But now you'll get letters saying "Dear dear dear - the last instalment of council tax was due on the ninth, and by my reckoning it's now the tenth. Tell you what, that hamster of your daughter's would fetch a couple of bob at the shampoo-testing plant. So you'd better pay up - and remember, you're a big man but you're out of shape. Alright. I said ALRIGHT!" And that's from someone like Saxmundham Parish Council.
So last week I received a letter from the good people of Iqor, a bailiffs employed by British Gas, in connection with a bill at my old address, and is the fourth such letter I've had SINCE THE BILL WAS PAID. I rang the number, as I did after all the other letters came, and went through that procedure where you have to administer your own chilling abuse, waiting for fifteen minutes and then navigating their instructions. With that technology at least they could give you the option of choosing your style of vindictiveness, so it could go "If you wish to be spoken to in the style of a surly bouncer, press one. If you wish to be addressed in icy monotone Kommandant, press two..."
The fact that I didn't live at the address, or that the bill was paid in full two months ago was all treated as if I was trying to wiggle out of my responsibilities on technicalities. They could only withdraw the threat to remove my goods if they were advised to by British Gas, they said. So - after a long long wait for British Gas to answer I was told the bill had indeed been paid, but they'd "requested" the bailiff stop the action, so if they were continuing with it "there's nothing else we can do." Maybe this is the method governments will use in future, when they want to have a war with a country but can't find a reason "We've looked at your records and realise you've not got any weapons of mass destruction but the trouble is we've already sent the army. We've requested them to stop but if they continue invading you there's really nothing else we can do."
So I ask to speak to the manager but he's not there but he will ring straight back - at the very most in an hour. I say I don't believe this and I'm told this is being extremely obstructive and unhelpful because "I've given you my word, Mister Steel." So the next morning I ring to ask why no one rang back, I'm left on hold for seventeen minutes, and altogether it takes me two hours to locate the bloke who was definitely ringing back, when he tells me he was on a training course, with no more hint of apology than the Queen would use if you got through to her and asked why she hadn't called you the previous evening.
The bailiffs "shouldn't" be writing me any more letters, he told me, but I suggested he should contact them again to make sure they didn't, and send me a letter confirming it, so I could present this to the bailiffs should they pop by. So then he got even frostier and slightly quieter, and I wondered whether he was going to say "Hmm, hmmmmm, you pay the bill, but you show me no respect. You ring me up but you don't even call me the Gasfather." Then he used lots of phrases like "I've already told you Mister Steel," and "That is not our procedure."
And through all of this, to one side was a copy of The Independent, the front page telling of British Gas enjoying record profits and record complaints all at once. Eventually my new friend told me he would send a letter that "Should get to you in four days," but he just couldn't - COULDN'T get it there any quicker.
I asked what he thought would be reasonable compensation and he said the absolute maximum they could pay out in any circumstances was fifty quid. So if they instal a faulty pipe in the Taj Mahal and blow the whole place up, when the Indian government rings up to complain they'll be told "Look, I've TOLD you Mr. Singh, fifty pounds is the most we can pay in any circumstances. Now that is the procedure, please refrain from being obstructive."
He's even sent an e-mail offering fifty quid, but it seems a bit inadequate to me. So what should I do? Do I accept the fifty quid, or get stroppy and insist on more. Whatever the final amount I'll send it to some charity or other, hopefully there's one called 'Help out Old Aged Pensioners Who've had their Gas Cut Off by those Shit-heads from British Gas', but as there might not be I'll make do with Age Concern.
So - it's up to you - vote for whether I should accept or reject the offer, by next Monday morning.
The banker has offered fifty quid - but what's it to be - deal or no deal?
Just post a comment saying 'deal' or 'no deal' and I'll await your verdict. Democrat primarys? THIS is the real thrilling vote of the year.
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