It seems the prospect of national media exposure and the discovery that Pixie Dust is in fact ‘a real thing’ for conveying broadbandery at BT spurred the comms monolith into motion.
The telegraph pole (that supplied our telephone line) laid low on Christmas Day, or at least its successor, is now up – the service is restored. Just the one month then, go Gav. And a series of other intertaining untruths from BT along the way. No joined up thinking there either, but we’ll gloss over the pretty far-fetched excuses that are up there with ‘the dog ate my BT van’.
Internet is back, and we have a month’s free telephony on offer (wow, thanks. Is it the good stuff, powered by Pixies?) Not much recompense given the amount of hours lost to pointless titting about and listening to hold musak. I must commend CEO Gavin Patterson’s personal office person though. She called pretty much every day. On my mobile, obviously.
Somehow I think my husband was right when he said, write them an actual letter, and send it recorded delivery. And a good friend and colleague suggested I address it to Gav, she was right too. After all, an email wasn’t going to cut the mustard was it.