Wednesday, 16 May 2012

PP PP PP I PPI PPI

Do you know what the title means? NO? Well neither do I really, I had a tune in my head and it seemed right.

But what I was trying to convey in that non musical manner was my rage and frustration at the constant interruptions to my concentration and creativity by those masters of destruction… the PPI calls.

Now the buggers aren’t even real, half of them are just recorded voices, the same recorded voices with the same messages, and no matter how much you scream down the phone they still patiently tell you how many thousands of pounds you’re owed.
git

No, No I’m not, I don’t know where you get these records from!

I don’t know if they are worse than the real ones though… the poor befuddled Filipinos at the other end of the line.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against anyone for being from another country, but at least they should have a rudimentary understanding of the language of the people they are speaking to.

I mean I wouldn’t expect to be able to deliver good customer service to the French. Although that is mainly due to the fact that I hate the French…

Its gotton to the point now where I try to gain some mild satisfaction from hearing their little confused voice at the other end of the line when I refuse to speak to them. They go on for ages! Like ages… Hello?…. Hello?…. …. …. …. …. …. …. …. …. …. …. …. Hello?

I used to just leave the phone on the side and walk away, but now I listen. It makes me giggle. BUT IT IS WRONG!

They should not be distracting me!

Next time they ring I’m just gonna say ‘poo’… like every time they try to speak, its gonna be like ‘poo’… and they’ll be all confused, and maybe cry.

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