Monday, 27 February 2012

The Art of Complaining

Oh, how to fill these long days of unemployment! Well, I've been writing lots of angry letters. It's a pastime I've enjoyed for a while, but something I can really now focus on, as I've so much time on my hands. 

It has been said that the British don't like to complain - I'm trying to redress the balance. I'm getting pretty good at it - I'd say I've pretty much mastered the medium of the angry letter.

A couple of weeks ago I earned £33 in one day - for doing nothing... except complaining. One of these complaints was justified and fairly serious, the other was not very serious at all.

I realised on a Sunday evening when trying to access my internet banking that my debit card was locked, so the following morning I called my bank to find out why. This led ultimately to a complaint and an angry email, which I've just re-read, littered with words like 'flabbergasted' and 'laughable'.

I explained my problem over the phone and was told how to unlock my card at an ATM. I asked how my card had become locked and was told that the only way it could happen was if my pin was entered incorrectly three times. 

At this point I became concerned; I hadn't used a cash point for some time - I'm unemployed and have no money - and, because I know my pin, definitely hadn't entered it incorrectly three times. 

I raised my concerns and was put through to someone in online banking. 

This person then explained how to unlock the card at an ATM. Yep, you've guessed it: I'd already been told how to unlock the card. That wasn't the problem. I was concerned my card had been compromised. These concerns were not taken seriously. In fact, I don't think anyone I spoke to even realised why I was concerned. 


I asked to be put through to a security team and was put through to Martha... in Customer Service. She told me to unlock my card. I knew I had to unlock my card; I wanted to know how my card had been locked. 


All three people I spoke to told me that the only way it could happen is by entering the pin incorrectly three times. I hadn't entered the pin incorrectly three times. I asked at which cash point this had happened. Martha couldn't tell. Much later on in the phone call she told me the date the card was locked on - I hadn't left the house that day. I asked Martha if she thought she should've disclosed the information about the date my card was locked when I originally asked at which cash point it was locked. She didn't know. The resolution of all this was that, basically, should my card be accessed fraudulently, then I should call them again. How's that for security?!

Martha asked - twice! - if I was satisfied with the service she'd provided. I definitely wasn't, and told her I felt I was hitting my head against a brick wall. All three people I spoke to didn't understand my concerns, and had the attitude that if my account was accessed illegally, well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. 


It was pure comedy - and not in a good way.


The outcome of this debacle was that I would simply have to wait to see if anyone other than myself accessed my account. I was confident this wouldn't happen, as whoever had tried to access it obviously didn't know my pin, or they wouldn't have locked my card. 


I eventually received a call back from another lady who told me that not many people - even the telephone banking staff I spoke to - realise that a card can become locked if its pin is entered incorrectly at a number of different cash machines. I then remembered that I had put my pin number in incorrectly once, when I first got back from travelling, and that I'd let my friend use it to buy drinks when I was too drunk to do it myself - the night we met Bramble and her owner. He could've entered it incorrectly too.

Case closed, and for my trouble, the bank put £30 in my account, "to cover the cost of the call" - and their arses. 

The other £3 I earned came from the yoghurt company Muller. I was shocked and appalled to discover that a multipack that should've contained three different flavoured yoghurts, only contained two. I promptly sent an angry email off and received £3 vouchers in the post. Yes!

The upshot of all of this is that, now well practised in the art of the complaint, I've targeted a bigger fish - the Department of Work and Pensions. After the way I was treated recently at the Jobcentre, I've sent an angry letter of complaint to the Chief Executive, asking for an apology. 

Watch this space as to the outcome!

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