BayswaterFarm.Com
Digital mayhem
Out of gas with o2
This is the lowdown on my attempts to buy a mobile phone from the trendy spinoff o2 (or is it O2?).
My sights are set on a Siemens C45 with a "Leisure" call package that has loads of free text messages. The evening before last I visited the o2 website, selected the above package and put it into my basket:
We are sorry...
The System has encountered an error, if you can not progress your order please call free phone 0870 225 7879 to complete your order. We apologise for the inconvenience and we are attempting to rectify the problem as soon as possible.
Calling the said number was unproductive; they were "closed until the morning".
Yesterday morning I tried again. This time I got as far as entering my address. It was not happy that I failed to enter a house number: I don't have one! But in order make progress, I entered "0" into this mandatory field. Bad move. Further progress stalled.
So, I called them. Connection to a human being was surprisingly quick, but it ended there Clearly the lass at the call centre was having problems with the software (she admitted as much). There were long pauses punctuated by requests to check the information I had given. I was asked to choose a username and password, but my choices were rejected. "They have to end with a number." she said. "Whatever for?!", I thought.
My address stumped them again. I recognised the symptoms: they have an out-of-date version of the postcode address file or (more likely) their programmers don't understand the variable structure of UK addresses and have messed up. (This is not the USA, remember!). This was so perplexing that the poor lass had to find her supervisor.
That was the point when my connection failed.
Calling back, I found that I was unable speak to the same person. I was told that there are five call centres scattered around the country, selected at random as each call comes in. Had I remembered the name with which the (initially) cheery voice had previously greeted me, I might have been in with a chance. But no. I was already late for a clinic and baulked at the idea of going through the whole rigmarole once more.
Later in the day I tried again. Magic. We swished through the questions, coped perfectly with my address, allowed my choice of username and passwords without terminal digits, and progressed to the bank details which were entered without a hitch.
Then the trouble really started. I was told that they could not accept my order because my credit check had failed. This is crazy! (There is irony here: last week my bank called me and announced that as I was one of their best customers, they were prepared to open a super-dooper accountspecially designed so the that likes of me can deposit even more of our wealth with them. )
"Surely not!" I exclaimed. "Have you spoken to my bank?" Of course they hadn't. They had run an online credit check with a bunch of charlatans that have no legal right to hold personal information about me, as I have not given them permission to do so. (After many false trails I eventually tracked down the said quackery, and after parting with money I'm not supposed to have, they have promised to send me a copy of the information they hold on me ... within 7 to 10 days. They go by the informative name Equifax, I believe.)
I'm afraid it gets worse.
Today I was in London at an RCP Council meeting. Kath was burning plastic on our daughter's behalf and I joined them for lunch off Oxford Street. Around the corner I spotted an o2 outlet and dropped in to see what I could buy. The choice was not fantastic and, more importantly, the deals were completely different to the Internet offers, and I was unable to locate the same deal I had earlier tried to purchase. But I did find an alternative and I delighted the keen young man by going for it. The forms were duly filled in, my bank card and driving licence produced. Then he made a phone call... All the information he had carefully entered onto the form was laboriously and carefully read over the phone. I felt deja vu creeping up on me. We did pass the postcode test this time, but we fell at the fence that required me to carry a bank statement with me on a day trip to London. I felt very sorry for the young lad, who failed to make his commission.
What on earth is this company playing at? Does it want to sell phones or not?
I was so intrigued by this question that I asked for a telephone number for the company's customer service department. "...I don't want another call centre" I stressed but, inevitably, that's what I got.
I called them, but failed at the first hurdle when I was asked for my mobile phone number. "But I haven't got a mobile phone, yet" I pleaded. Stony silence. Then I spilled the beans: all of them. "Oh!", she said. "I had better put you through to the sales department". "Please, no: can you just give me an email address to contact someone in the company (not a call centre) who can deal with this?" "Hold on a moment" she said, and the music played, and played, and played. She eventually came back and gave me the address of the website I started out with (on which, incidentally, there is no information on how to contact or feed back to the company).
The upshot was that this modern, high-tech company apparently does not have a public email address, and clearly does not want to have a sensible, two-way dialogue with potential customers. They don't even want to sell phones!
I did however ask for, and was given, a telephone number for their Head Office. Tomorrow I will find out if it really is, or if it's just another call centre. If I get through to the Company, I will be giving them a pointer to this story.
Meanwhile, I am contacting my stockbroker...
Postscript
I have just received a printout from Equifax of the information they hold on me (and, curiously, my address). There is nothing there at all to explain why I was considered unworthy. More importantly, there is no record of a recent enquiry having been made by O2.
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