Knitting and ranting

I am so glad that I am knitting something straightforward, so I can just sit there and steam along, almost literally steam, it's practically coming out of my ears.

I'm steaming about more of the things that I keep hearing about what has happened in New Orleans, even allowing for the massive rumour mill that is rumbling on now. Reduce the tales by half, and it is still a complete and utter disgrace.

But I have a personal, petty grievance that has really got my goat today. The weekend we went to Cambridge for the wedding, I bought myself a new mobile phone. I started out with BT Cellnet, and have stayed with that network whilst it transmogrified itself a time or two and eventually ended up as O2. Just before the Bank Holiday weekend, I realised that it was dead in the water, or rather, my shoulder bag (just after driving back from Freyalynn's lateish at night and in the dark, I might add.....) So, googled away merrily and found that the nearest and most convenient O2 store to me (and that not very, as I normally never go there - it holds 'orrible memories for me.....) was in Keighley, and of we went. Now, in Cambridge, the O2 staff were all quite bright, sane and personable. Not so in Keighley. Oh, probably bright enough, not so sure about the sane, but they had not been to the right staff training academies, if they had been to any at all. Not impressed. Anyhow, got the agreement of the toddler who served me, after he had checked "upstairs" that they would post my replacement phone rather than me having to go back to pick it up.(He couldn't just give me one, that would have been far too simple, only if a phone failed within four weeks could that be done. This was more like six.) Back in a week.

So, ten days on, I telephone O2 Keighley. From the absolute get-go, the first person I spoke to was to say the least, disdainful. Rude. I quickly became rather more so myself. They Did Not Post Phones. (Repeat ad nauseam, followed by me saying You Agreed That You Would. I can still hum a bar or two of "We shall not be moved" when I choose.

Eventually, I was passed along the line to the manager of O2 Keighley, who would, frankly, have got a kick in the goolies if I had been actually in his presence. The fool could not grasp just why I was so particularly annoyed when he kept saying that he had to check with whoever had told me my phone could be posted to me before it could be done. IF "he" confirmed it, then..."Excuse me" quoth I "I am telling you so, and my husband can confirm that" Around the mulberry bush again. I did point out to him that he was de facto accusing me of uttering falsehood, but he seemed not to take it in. Obviously, the customer is always wrong is rule one in the O2 staff training manual.

It ended with me having the last word, but it remains to be seen if my phone materialises - they do admit to having it on the premises at least.

I am cross. O2 head office is about to get One Of My Letters (they scorch).

Praise be for knitting.

Now lets count up how many times I managed to get O2 in to this post......