I KEEP reading articles in the newspapers about some company going by the name of "Telecom Eireann". This is the same name as the company from which I rent my telephone, but is obviously a different operation. The Telecom Eireann I read about has just set up a Customer Charter under which it undertakes to refund "up to £20" of service standards are not met. This Telecom Eireann, by a strange coincidence, is also in the telephone business, and is offering its customers a refund if new lines are not fitted within 15 working days.
If the Telecom Eireann from whom I rent my telephone was to try anything like that, it would be paying out about twice as much money as it takes in. So, when I read last week that this "Telecom Eireann" had reported pre tax profits of £116 million, I knew for sure there had to be two Telecom Eireanns.
A few months back, I asked my Telecom Eireann to move my telephone from my house, which was being repaired, to an apartment to which I was moving temporarily. It had been some time since I had occasion to deal with this Telecom Eireann of mine, and had managed to put most of the bad memories behind me. Moreover, from all the tales of rationalisation and so forth, I was under the impression this Telecom of mine was now so sharp you could use your telephone as a razor.
My first contact was with a man I will call Justin, who sounded so bouncy and efficient I took everything he said at face value. He asked me a number of questions and appeared to write down the answers. There would be no problem, he said. It was a simple operation. It would take, he added, about threes weeks. Only three weeks? Wow! I couldn't believe it. Yes indeedy, said Justin, or words to that effect, 15 working days and you can talk away on the telephone as long as you like. Just in said he would do the necessary paperwork, and if I just gave him a call in three weeks, he would set the machinery in motion. I would then have my telephone connected within 24 hours. What a wonderful place this modern Ireland is, I thought to myself. Have a nice day, Justin, I said.
That was the last I heard of Justin. Three weeks later, when I rang the number he had given me, the telephone was answered by a man I will call Mick. Is Justin there? I inquired brightly. No, replied Mickser, Justin was not there. Not to worry, I said, maybe Mickser could help me. I briefly explained about my arrangement with Justin. He seemed to listen. "Have you a reference number?" he asked. I had. He went away for a while. I continued feeding coins into the machine. Eventually he came back. "Oh, it's a telephone you want?" he said. Yep, I replied. "That could take a few weeks". Ah no, you see, I explained, that's all sorted out. "Justin told me I could have it within 24 hours," I said.
Ahahahahahaha, he said. You know the way they do. Ahahahahahaha, Justin won't have to put it in. I'm the one who's going to have to put it in," said Mickser. He then began asking me again all the questions Justin had asked me, as well as a lot of questions Justin hadn't thought of. Had there ever been a telephone in the apartment I was going to? I didn't know. That would make a big difference, he explained. It wasn't just a question of flicking a switch, he reminded me. "Where is Justin?" I pleaded. "Justin isn't here," he replied. You can forget all about Justin, he implied. Then he said it.
"Give me your number so we can contact you".
I'm sorry?
"Give me your number so we can call you when we're ready to connect you." I explained this would not be possible as I did not have a telephone. How were they supposed to contact me then? Mickser wanted to know. A good question. I gave him the number of my landlord.
DELIGHTED everything had at last sorted out, I went away for a week or so. But no telephone awaited me on my return. I rang the number of Justin and Mickser. There was no reply. There began a three day epic during which I spoke to virtually everyone who works for my Telecom Eireann, apart from the chief executive, who was too busy to speak to me. Living out of a callbox, I explained to all and sundry that I desperately needed a telephone. Nobody seemed to think this in the least relevant. Everyone I spoke to tried to give me the number of Justin and Mickser. Again and again, I explained I couldn't get a reply from that number. They would look into it and call me back. There you go again, I would say. Okay then, could I call them back? I did. Sorry, they would tell me, but we can't get through to Justin and Mickser.
On the second day, I rang the chief executive's office, and spoke to a very plausible sounding man who, in response to my clench teethed litany, told me my experience was deeply untypical. Telecom was now a much improved, highly modernised company, he said. "Where is the evidence?" I inquired. There were, he agreed, some "residual cultural problems" in "one or two areas", but these were being eradicated. Yes, I said, but what about my telephone? "Give me your number and I'll call you back when I have news," said the man from the chief executive's office at Telecom Eireann.
On the third day, I called back and he told me the reason my telephone had not been connected was that they didn't have a number by which to contact me. He told me they would be able to connect me in two days. Why not today, I asked. That was the best he could do, he said. He was sorry for the confusion, which he repeated was not typical. He would investigate the matter and I would receive a written explanation.
This is the way it has always been with my Telecom Eireann, and this is how it will always remain. I would like to have my telephone supplied by the other Telecom Eireann, the one which reports vast profits and has a Customer Charter which allows for refunds if service standards are not met. But I know I am not worthy. I suspect that in some perverse part of my psyche, I need this kind of thing. Perhaps my Telecom Eireann knows it is doing me a great favour by keeping things interesting.
I know, too, that I'm missing something. I have long since learned not to say stupid things like, "Surely it is more important for a telephone company to be able to supply a telephone service than to make a profit." This just shows off my ignorance of business matters. I read in an Irish Times editorial last week that, in spite of its vast profits, the other Telecom Eireann (which has reduced its workforce by 6,000 in the past decade) "remains overstaffed". I know this must be true, and that I am being ridiculous when I ask how a company which cannot fit a telephone in less than three weeks could possibly be overstaffed.
Meanwhile, my Telecom Eireann has still not written to explain why it took well over a month, and countless phonecalls, to have my telephone moved quarter of a mile down the road.