There were panic stations at the Dark Satanic Mill today. Well, not throughout the Dark Satanic Mill; just in our part, the complaints department. My colleague, friend, evil sidekick and "adopted" daughter, Gemma, was logging complaints that had been received by phone in our call centre at about 4pm this afternoon. She was looking at one when she came over to me with a puzzled look on her face.
"I'm not sure what to do with this one, Jester," she said. "One of our engineers has been taken hostage by a customer." I asked her for the job number and brought the details up on my computer and there it was. The notes said that the customer had said that the engineer had turned up with the wrong part and she wasn't going to let him leave the house until he had fitted the right part. The girl who had put the note on the job then spoke to the engineer and he had apparently confirmed that he was being held hostage.
This struck me as bizarre for a number of reasons:
1) How could the engineer get the right part without leaving the house?
2) Why had the girl not tried to get help to the engineer? She could have called the police for instance or the engineer's field manager.
3) Why had she "diaried" the job to our department so we could pick it up a couple of hours too late? (And that is quick for us too!)
After her notes were some notes from a team manager, who had seemed more concerned about getting the correct parts for the boiler than managing to negotiate the release of the "hostage". Now, I know hostage negotiation is a difficult job and is best carried out by trained professionals but I did think that telling the customer we were going to call the police might have done the trick. Instead, he had tried to find out if the right part was locally available.
Then nothing. No more notes. For all we knew, the engineer could have died a nasty, protracted death at the hands of an irate customer.
I'm very worried about looking a fool so I didn't ring the police. Instead, I first tried to contact the girl who had put the original notes on and then the team manager, with no success. I then rang the field manager and asked him if he was aware that one of his engineers was being held hostage (we hadn't had a call from a relieved engineer telling us that the situation had been defused and he was once again a free man). The FM (field manager) asked which engineer I was referring to. I gave the name of the poor unfortunate. He said, no, he was not aware but he had had a call from head office saying that this very engineer had been stuck on a job for 3 hours and they had had to reschedule some of his appointments. Not bloody surprising was my thought. He'd probably been locked in a cupboard or cellar for the 3 hours.
I asked him to ring the engineer and check he was okay. I said the poor man probably needed a welfare call. After a couple more unsuccessful attempts to call the team manager, I rang the FM back. He put me straight:
No the engineer had not been taken hostage. He had turned up with the wrong part and the customer had been a little bit annoyed. Not with him, though, she had been annoyed with the previous engineers who had attended. She had then asked if the engineer could stay in the house while she tried to find the right part. She had been speaking to the girl at the Dark Satanic Mill who had put a note on the job stating that the engineer had been taken hostage. The girl had then spoken to the engineer who said "It's like being held hostage". He had been joking. We had tried to find the part but it was not locally available and he had left the house, safe and well, and gone onto his next job.
Panic over. I then, finally, managed to get through to the team manager, who knew that the engineer had not been taken hostage. I pointed out to him that it might have made our jobs a little easier had the following rules been followed:
1) Don't say an engineer has been taken hostage when he hasn't.
2) Don't diary to the complaints department when there is no complaint and an engineer hasn't been taken hostage.
3) If there are notes on a job saying an engineer has been taken hostage and you know he hasn't. Put notes on saying he hasn't been taken hostage.
4) If an engineer has been taken hostage, don't diary it to complaints. He'll be dead before we pick it up.
5) If an engineer has been taken hostage, try ringing the police. I mean, it's not as if they have anything to do, is it? (Sorry, that was just plain bad of me.)
Now, I really wanted to finish this blog with a video of Jack Point (the jester from Yeomen of the Guard) singing "I have a song to sing-o" but could I find it??? Could I heck as like! So here is Tundra Rap from the Mighty Boosh instead.
Wednesday, 13 June 2007
Monday, 11 June 2007
Pennywise, Jester, Copperfield and Portable Blogs
Pennywise was due back at work today. Do you know that since 23 April, 3 days before I posted Jester, Jessica, Pennywise and the Proverbial, he has been at work for a grand total of 2½ days? Anyway, he didn't come back today and now he's been signed off for another two weeks. Now, I really don't want to be uncharitable but I'm in grave danger of being so because it's so infuriating. We've picked up all the pieces now. They're well and truly gone. So what have I to complain about? Jessica and I have this nasty niggling feeling that when he does come back, he'll have an uncomfortable couple of weeks and then all this will be swept under the carpet because it happened once before and he got away with it.
I was off last year with stress and as a welfare move, my manager put me onto standard complaints as a temporary measure (I'm an established member of the Complex Team). Then, a few months later, I was told that because I had not been dealing with Complex and High Level Complaints, I would be marked down as Below Expectations at my next PDR. I called in the Union and put in a grievance and explained that I had been put onto standard complaints to reduce my stress and now they were simply increasing it. Our HR Manager came up with a good compromise. My PDR was put back by two months to allow me to "catch up" and I got a "Meets". That was fine by me. My reason for being a little cynical now is that Pennywise has never had to fight the system like I had to last year and I hadn't left a huge mess for my colleagues to clean up.
Well, enough bitching for one blog. My original idea for this blog was inspired when I was recently sat on the bog reading Copperfield's blog. Okay, I was sat on the toilet reading Copperfield's book (well worth buying and cheap at the price), but bog rhymes with blog and I'm sure the contents of the book come from his numerous blogs. It's a nice handy way of getting the blog up into the smallest room. I don't have a lap top and the desk top is a bit bulky for carrying upstairs and downstairs when I need to go.
Maybe I'm being a bit familiar calling him Copperfield (and I sincerely hope he doesn't mind) but I feel like I know him now. Maybe it's because I'm married to an articulate policeman (and have been for 21 years, bless him!) or maybe it's because I've read a few of his blogs now, on and off the toilet. Or maybe both reasons apply. Anyway, I like calling him Copperfield, so you'll just have to lump it.
So I was wondering where he gets the time to blog. A cursory glance through his last few blogs shows that he's posted one every other day for a little while. He's prolific. Aah, then I remembered. Policemen work shifts (well, the ones who do real police work do, anyway), which means they're at home when other members of the family aren't (except my unemployed daughter) and they're awake when other members of the family aren't (except my insomniac son). My husband spends hours in front of the computer in the morning trying to get his sluggish digestive system into action (usually with little success). I'm sure he could blog if he put his mind to it, although I think he might plead superfluity - there are quite a few police blogs out there already. So he bubble shoots, reads blogs, Copperfield's and Gadget's amongst them (it was him who got me reading them in the first place) but not mine - he's too embarrassed - and reading The Telegraph online. He also checks out Amazon and puts books, DVDs and CDs onto his wish list.
Maybe PC Copperfield skips the bubble shooting and concentrates instead on his writing. If he does, I'm glad he does. It's great to see my poor hubby isn't in a minority of one (although when it comes to insufferable wives, he probably is) and that other policemen view the job in much the same way as he does. Now if Copperfield ever read my blog (on the toilet or not as the case may be) - that would be nice!
I was off last year with stress and as a welfare move, my manager put me onto standard complaints as a temporary measure (I'm an established member of the Complex Team). Then, a few months later, I was told that because I had not been dealing with Complex and High Level Complaints, I would be marked down as Below Expectations at my next PDR. I called in the Union and put in a grievance and explained that I had been put onto standard complaints to reduce my stress and now they were simply increasing it. Our HR Manager came up with a good compromise. My PDR was put back by two months to allow me to "catch up" and I got a "Meets". That was fine by me. My reason for being a little cynical now is that Pennywise has never had to fight the system like I had to last year and I hadn't left a huge mess for my colleagues to clean up.
Well, enough bitching for one blog. My original idea for this blog was inspired when I was recently sat on the bog reading Copperfield's blog. Okay, I was sat on the toilet reading Copperfield's book (well worth buying and cheap at the price), but bog rhymes with blog and I'm sure the contents of the book come from his numerous blogs. It's a nice handy way of getting the blog up into the smallest room. I don't have a lap top and the desk top is a bit bulky for carrying upstairs and downstairs when I need to go.
Maybe I'm being a bit familiar calling him Copperfield (and I sincerely hope he doesn't mind) but I feel like I know him now. Maybe it's because I'm married to an articulate policeman (and have been for 21 years, bless him!) or maybe it's because I've read a few of his blogs now, on and off the toilet. Or maybe both reasons apply. Anyway, I like calling him Copperfield, so you'll just have to lump it.
So I was wondering where he gets the time to blog. A cursory glance through his last few blogs shows that he's posted one every other day for a little while. He's prolific. Aah, then I remembered. Policemen work shifts (well, the ones who do real police work do, anyway), which means they're at home when other members of the family aren't (except my unemployed daughter) and they're awake when other members of the family aren't (except my insomniac son). My husband spends hours in front of the computer in the morning trying to get his sluggish digestive system into action (usually with little success). I'm sure he could blog if he put his mind to it, although I think he might plead superfluity - there are quite a few police blogs out there already. So he bubble shoots, reads blogs, Copperfield's and Gadget's amongst them (it was him who got me reading them in the first place) but not mine - he's too embarrassed - and reading The Telegraph online. He also checks out Amazon and puts books, DVDs and CDs onto his wish list.
Maybe PC Copperfield skips the bubble shooting and concentrates instead on his writing. If he does, I'm glad he does. It's great to see my poor hubby isn't in a minority of one (although when it comes to insufferable wives, he probably is) and that other policemen view the job in much the same way as he does. Now if Copperfield ever read my blog (on the toilet or not as the case may be) - that would be nice!
Friday, 8 June 2007
Great Minds thinking alike
There is an expression "Great minds think alike". It's probably true. However, I think it's also probably true that "Small minds think alike". Please read the following extracts from two letters recently received at the Dark Satanic Mill. One was addressed to me and the other was addressed to my friend and colleague Goodwill Gerard (I'm running out of suitable names now).
"So, to insult my family with this obscene offer ... only shows your customer service dept is about as good as your engineers" (To Jester. I have quoted it verbatim, including abbreviations and lack of punctuation.)
"Regrettably your compensation process seems to be as ill co-ordinated as the emergency service about which i first complained." (To Gerard. Again, quoted verbatim, warts and all.)
Talking of pusillanimity, I had the pleasure of humming the theme
from Thomas the Tank Engine today while the Fat Controller was stood a few feet from my desk talking to my managers. He won't have known that it was directed at him but I enjoyed it. Of course, I'm referring to him when I mention pusillanimity, not me. I just wanted to make sure you know.
"So, to insult my family with this obscene offer ... only shows your customer service dept is about as good as your engineers" (To Jester. I have quoted it verbatim, including abbreviations and lack of punctuation.)
"Regrettably your compensation process seems to be as ill co-ordinated as the emergency service about which i first complained." (To Gerard. Again, quoted verbatim, warts and all.)
Talking of pusillanimity, I had the pleasure of humming the theme
from Thomas the Tank Engine today while the Fat Controller was stood a few feet from my desk talking to my managers. He won't have known that it was directed at him but I enjoyed it. Of course, I'm referring to him when I mention pusillanimity, not me. I just wanted to make sure you know.
Tuesday, 5 June 2007
Keeping this side of insanity
Inspector Gadget wondered how I manage to stay sane and that got me thinking. My family don't keep me sane, they make me more insane. Having said that, I know that I make them insane too so we're even there. This blog keeps me sane because it creates a little bit of objective distance for me so I can see the madness that is the Dark Satanic Mill for what it is. Finally, what I get up to when I doff my cap and bells keeps me sane. Here is a pictorial guide to what Jester gets up to in her spare time.
Music:
Sport:
and yes, I am one of the dancers. I wear a different kind of cap and bells when I do this.
More sport:
And also:
and:
There are more but I think this is enough for now.
Music:
Sport:
and yes, I am one of the dancers. I wear a different kind of cap and bells when I do this.
More sport:
And also:
and:
There are more but I think this is enough for now.
Monday, 4 June 2007
Jester, Audits and Defences
About two and a bit years ago, the Dark Satanic Mill had an Internal FSA Audit. I remember it well. Our Head Office in the West Midlands sent somebody up to our office and he went to various people in various departments and asked them lots of questions. When he came to our Department, he asked me lots of questions.
At the time I was dealing with Underwriter complaints (the customer, not happy with our response would "escalate" the complaint to our Underwriter, who would send the complaint to us and we would respond on their behalf), sending Final Response Letters and preparing FOS Files.
My training thus far had been notable in its absence. Everything I had been doing I had worked out for myself or by asking my colleagues at Head Office. For instance, I had had no idea how to frame a Final Response Letter and this had only come to light when FOS had refused to deal with a complaint because my Final Response Letter to the customer was not a Final Response Letter. My colleague from HQ had sent me a few examples and I had been able to frame one that would satisfy FOS. My FOS files had been a shambles, to put it politely.
So this gentleman from HQ came over and asked me a few questions. I was never blessed with the gift of blagging so I answered them honestly. I don't really remember very well what they were but I know he asked me what training I had received for what I was doing and I answered truthfully that I had received no formal training and anything I did know I had picked up as I went along.
He thanked me for my time and went his way.
In no time at all, the Fat Controller (see previous posts for my opinion of him), our Customer Service Director, was at my desk asking me why I had told the auditor what I had told him. I answered truthfully that I had told him the truth, no more, no less. Was there a problem with that? Well, yes, actually, there was. I had made the Dark Satanic Mill look bad. I told him that I was sorry but I don't actually like lying and I didn't think that I would have been able to pull off a lie in this case. The Fat Controller went his way, still not happy with me.
A little later, our Internal Operations Director came over to me. I actually quite like this man. He's a big bloke. A rugby player with a West Midlands accent. He knows who I am and will have a quick chat with me if he gets the opportunity. However, he asked me much the same questions as the Fat Controller had done and got the same responses. He went away just as dissatisfied with me as the Fat Controller.
I was glad I caused a stir. It had been scandalous how I had been treated. I had been thrown in at the deep end and I had not had a clue what I was doing or how to do it. I do feel my card was marked at the time, although I had simply been a good Quaker girl and told the truth. There is no love lost between me and the Fat Controller now, although I still get on with the Internal Operations Director.
So fast forward two and a bit years to Yesterday. Ah, Yesterday (no I'm not going to break into song, not even a Lennon/McCartney song). Yesterday, I prepared a Defence for a County Court Claim and before you ask, no, I am not a solicitor. I have not even had the rudimentary legal training that some of my colleagues have received. No, I didn't want to do it but I was left with no option. One of the cases that my colleague Pennywise (see previous posts) has left with me is a County Court Claim. I had been waiting for our company solicitor to return from leave because I really did not know what to do with it (I always send mine to him so he can do all the paperwork but Pennywise had not done this). Our solicitor, lets call him Anthony, told me that we had run out of time and I would need to get a defence in as quickly as possible and one thing we could be sure of was he wasn't going to do it because he had a pile of stuff on his desk reaching to the ceiling that was more of a priority.
So poor old Jester had to do it. I spoke to Jessica, who has prepared a defence (in much the same circumstances as me) and she printed off hers and gave it to me so I could use it as a template. I did the rest. I did the investigation (including speaking to our Contractor), I drafted the defence, which took all day, and I e-mailed it to Anthony so he could check it and amend it. I did not get it back and I'm off work today walking in the Lakes with my husband, who has to deal with the absurdities of being a 21st Century policeman on a daily basis, so it won't get sent today.
So, as they say in France, "Plus c'est la meme chose, plus ça change", or, as they say in the Dark Satanic Mill, "SOS, same old sh*t".
At the time I was dealing with Underwriter complaints (the customer, not happy with our response would "escalate" the complaint to our Underwriter, who would send the complaint to us and we would respond on their behalf), sending Final Response Letters and preparing FOS Files.
My training thus far had been notable in its absence. Everything I had been doing I had worked out for myself or by asking my colleagues at Head Office. For instance, I had had no idea how to frame a Final Response Letter and this had only come to light when FOS had refused to deal with a complaint because my Final Response Letter to the customer was not a Final Response Letter. My colleague from HQ had sent me a few examples and I had been able to frame one that would satisfy FOS. My FOS files had been a shambles, to put it politely.
So this gentleman from HQ came over and asked me a few questions. I was never blessed with the gift of blagging so I answered them honestly. I don't really remember very well what they were but I know he asked me what training I had received for what I was doing and I answered truthfully that I had received no formal training and anything I did know I had picked up as I went along.
He thanked me for my time and went his way.
In no time at all, the Fat Controller (see previous posts for my opinion of him), our Customer Service Director, was at my desk asking me why I had told the auditor what I had told him. I answered truthfully that I had told him the truth, no more, no less. Was there a problem with that? Well, yes, actually, there was. I had made the Dark Satanic Mill look bad. I told him that I was sorry but I don't actually like lying and I didn't think that I would have been able to pull off a lie in this case. The Fat Controller went his way, still not happy with me.
A little later, our Internal Operations Director came over to me. I actually quite like this man. He's a big bloke. A rugby player with a West Midlands accent. He knows who I am and will have a quick chat with me if he gets the opportunity. However, he asked me much the same questions as the Fat Controller had done and got the same responses. He went away just as dissatisfied with me as the Fat Controller.
I was glad I caused a stir. It had been scandalous how I had been treated. I had been thrown in at the deep end and I had not had a clue what I was doing or how to do it. I do feel my card was marked at the time, although I had simply been a good Quaker girl and told the truth. There is no love lost between me and the Fat Controller now, although I still get on with the Internal Operations Director.
So fast forward two and a bit years to Yesterday. Ah, Yesterday (no I'm not going to break into song, not even a Lennon/McCartney song). Yesterday, I prepared a Defence for a County Court Claim and before you ask, no, I am not a solicitor. I have not even had the rudimentary legal training that some of my colleagues have received. No, I didn't want to do it but I was left with no option. One of the cases that my colleague Pennywise (see previous posts) has left with me is a County Court Claim. I had been waiting for our company solicitor to return from leave because I really did not know what to do with it (I always send mine to him so he can do all the paperwork but Pennywise had not done this). Our solicitor, lets call him Anthony, told me that we had run out of time and I would need to get a defence in as quickly as possible and one thing we could be sure of was he wasn't going to do it because he had a pile of stuff on his desk reaching to the ceiling that was more of a priority.
So poor old Jester had to do it. I spoke to Jessica, who has prepared a defence (in much the same circumstances as me) and she printed off hers and gave it to me so I could use it as a template. I did the rest. I did the investigation (including speaking to our Contractor), I drafted the defence, which took all day, and I e-mailed it to Anthony so he could check it and amend it. I did not get it back and I'm off work today walking in the Lakes with my husband, who has to deal with the absurdities of being a 21st Century policeman on a daily basis, so it won't get sent today.
So, as they say in France, "Plus c'est la meme chose, plus ça change", or, as they say in the Dark Satanic Mill, "SOS, same old sh*t".
Sunday, 3 June 2007
Jester, Jasper and the Slight Mistake
I post this blog on two sites: this one and Wordpress (it's nice to reach as large an audience as possible). I had a comment left on the other site a day or two ago from a blogger whom I consider to be one of the best, Inspector Gadget. This left me dancing round my house in a state of euphoria yesterday singing "Inspector Gadget commented me, Inspector Gadget commented me". I didn't realise he even read my tales. It has had another effect though. I've finally been dragged up from the doldrums and finally I feel up to writing a blog again.
Inspector Gadget was interested to know how I/we stay sane. Well, obviously my mental state is not so delicate that I ever get pushed over the edge into true insanity (although many of my fellow jesters would say I fell over the edge many years ago) but I can state with absolute conviction that if I were ever in any danger, having my colleagues around me would hold me back.
We have a wonderful mix of people on our department. We have WASPs, and I must include heterosexuals in this category; we have a sub-group - a couple of born again Christians; we have gay men, a lesbian, a couple who claim to be bi-sexual; we have a number of Asian Muslims; we have catholics (and yes, I'm sorry, you were an afterthought). I can safely say that I get on with every single one of them. My Asian Muslim lady colleagues have delighted because they have exploded so many of my misconceptions about them. I'm afraid I always assumed them to be very serious indeed and when it comes to sex, at best shy and at worst prudish. Not so, they can laugh with the rest of us at jokes and like drains at a dirty joke. And that is just a few of my colleagues. They range from pleasant to abso-blooming-lutely wonderful.
Across the way from me sits Goodwill Jasper, a gay, Northern Irish Protestant from Londonderry (yes, I would tend to drop the London bit, descended from Southern Irish Catholics as I am). We have a number of names for him. I've called him the gay Ian Paisley, Mr Grumpy calls him Dolly (don't ask!), Jasper likes to call himself "Hot Rod Sex God". He is one of the funniest people I know. Jasper"drags up" and actually makes a very attractive woman and almost indistinguishable from the real thing (I was fooled myself, the first time I saw him in drag). His drag name is Lin, short for Linoleum "because I spend all my time on my back and I've seen more ceilings than Michelangelo". This is one of the many things he says that have me in stitches. Most, admittedly are too crude for this blog but another is "I like my men like I like my coffee: hot, strong and sweet, like Terico..." Actually, he quite often sings this.
Jasper belongs to a website, available only through his phone company. There, you can post a link with pictures and people will contact you. Jasper has stated quite categorically that he is a gay man, so there is no mistake and his pictures are supposed to be posted in the section for gay men. Recently, he posted a picture on the site. I've seen it and, admittedly, it is hard to tell what gender he is in the picture. The site posted it on the section for women, straight women (Jasper won't mind me using the word straight; he's not too bothered about Political Correctness. Just don't be rude and mean it). This was about 9 o'clock in the morning. By Lunch, he had about 30 messages, mainly from heterosexual men but one from a lesbian. I think they all thought he was a "hot chick". Lin had finally become real. He had to reply to them all and explain the mistake. When he finished work, there had been another 90 or so, including replies to his replies to earlier messages. I think he spent the whole evening explaining the mistake to myriad heterosexual men, some of them no longer so certain about their sexuality.
I found it hilarious and, needless to say, yet another potential lapse into insanity was averted.
So finally, Inspector Gadget, how do you manage to stay sane? I'm married to a Police Constable of 21 years' standing and I don't know how he manages it. He doesn't know either, although I do know that he has decent colleagues who think in the same way as him and are able to convince him that it is the machine that is wrong, not him. I'm lucky to be a Jester. I wouldn't swap my cap and bells for truncheon, handcuffs and CS Spray....ever!
Inspector Gadget was interested to know how I/we stay sane. Well, obviously my mental state is not so delicate that I ever get pushed over the edge into true insanity (although many of my fellow jesters would say I fell over the edge many years ago) but I can state with absolute conviction that if I were ever in any danger, having my colleagues around me would hold me back.
We have a wonderful mix of people on our department. We have WASPs, and I must include heterosexuals in this category; we have a sub-group - a couple of born again Christians; we have gay men, a lesbian, a couple who claim to be bi-sexual; we have a number of Asian Muslims; we have catholics (and yes, I'm sorry, you were an afterthought). I can safely say that I get on with every single one of them. My Asian Muslim lady colleagues have delighted because they have exploded so many of my misconceptions about them. I'm afraid I always assumed them to be very serious indeed and when it comes to sex, at best shy and at worst prudish. Not so, they can laugh with the rest of us at jokes and like drains at a dirty joke. And that is just a few of my colleagues. They range from pleasant to abso-blooming-lutely wonderful.
Across the way from me sits Goodwill Jasper, a gay, Northern Irish Protestant from Londonderry (yes, I would tend to drop the London bit, descended from Southern Irish Catholics as I am). We have a number of names for him. I've called him the gay Ian Paisley, Mr Grumpy calls him Dolly (don't ask!), Jasper likes to call himself "Hot Rod Sex God". He is one of the funniest people I know. Jasper"drags up" and actually makes a very attractive woman and almost indistinguishable from the real thing (I was fooled myself, the first time I saw him in drag). His drag name is Lin, short for Linoleum "because I spend all my time on my back and I've seen more ceilings than Michelangelo". This is one of the many things he says that have me in stitches. Most, admittedly are too crude for this blog but another is "I like my men like I like my coffee: hot, strong and sweet, like Terico..." Actually, he quite often sings this.
Jasper belongs to a website, available only through his phone company. There, you can post a link with pictures and people will contact you. Jasper has stated quite categorically that he is a gay man, so there is no mistake and his pictures are supposed to be posted in the section for gay men. Recently, he posted a picture on the site. I've seen it and, admittedly, it is hard to tell what gender he is in the picture. The site posted it on the section for women, straight women (Jasper won't mind me using the word straight; he's not too bothered about Political Correctness. Just don't be rude and mean it). This was about 9 o'clock in the morning. By Lunch, he had about 30 messages, mainly from heterosexual men but one from a lesbian. I think they all thought he was a "hot chick". Lin had finally become real. He had to reply to them all and explain the mistake. When he finished work, there had been another 90 or so, including replies to his replies to earlier messages. I think he spent the whole evening explaining the mistake to myriad heterosexual men, some of them no longer so certain about their sexuality.
I found it hilarious and, needless to say, yet another potential lapse into insanity was averted.
So finally, Inspector Gadget, how do you manage to stay sane? I'm married to a Police Constable of 21 years' standing and I don't know how he manages it. He doesn't know either, although I do know that he has decent colleagues who think in the same way as him and are able to convince him that it is the machine that is wrong, not him. I'm lucky to be a Jester. I wouldn't swap my cap and bells for truncheon, handcuffs and CS Spray....ever!
Wednesday, 16 May 2007
Jessica, Magicians and X-Ray Vision
Oh dear. Goodwill Jester has been very gloomy recently. One would have hoped that things would have improved since my last post but they have in fact gone from bad to worse. I work in a small team of high level jesters dealing with high level complaints. Our numbers have been badly depleted over the past few weeks but the amount of work we are dealing with appears to be increasing exponentially. On Monday, I was alone and for a while I was doing the work of 4 people. Our managers drafted in some help but it was still very difficult. Things improved on Tuesday when Goodwill Jessica was in and today Jessica and another high level jester, Goodwill Jackie, were in but we're swimming against the tide at the moment. I spent the entire day getting evidence for our in-house solicitor to use in two upcoming court cases. So I'm very, very stressed indeed. That is why I have not been blogging.
On a lighter note, a week or so ago Jessica showed me an invoice that one of our customers had sent in. It cheered me up briefly and it is time I shared it with others.
The scenario, very briefly, was that our customer had been told he had a blockage in the system, presumably the central heating system. This would not be covered by the policy (like all good insurance companies, we have exclusions and invoke them at every opportunity). The customer was advised to get his own plumber out to find and remove the blockage. The plumber attended. I have no idea what he did but he filled out his job sheet as follows (and I quote it verbatim with a couple of omissions to preserve anonymity):
Blockage in system diagnosed by [The Dark Satanic Mill]. Customer told by ... office that I can tell where blockage is and rectify.
I am not a magician or have the facility of X-Ray vision.
It's lovely that humour is not dead but the really wonderful thing about this is that the plumber could spell - marvellous!
On a lighter note, a week or so ago Jessica showed me an invoice that one of our customers had sent in. It cheered me up briefly and it is time I shared it with others.
The scenario, very briefly, was that our customer had been told he had a blockage in the system, presumably the central heating system. This would not be covered by the policy (like all good insurance companies, we have exclusions and invoke them at every opportunity). The customer was advised to get his own plumber out to find and remove the blockage. The plumber attended. I have no idea what he did but he filled out his job sheet as follows (and I quote it verbatim with a couple of omissions to preserve anonymity):
Blockage in system diagnosed by [The Dark Satanic Mill]. Customer told by ... office that I can tell where blockage is and rectify.
I am not a magician or have the facility of X-Ray vision.
It's lovely that humour is not dead but the really wonderful thing about this is that the plumber could spell - marvellous!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)