Buses and TfL

After picking up the phone and verbally complaining - in measured tones (apart from a slight hysterical rant towards the end - which i'm putting down to the frequency of my virtual phone/fax software assistant oscillating in synchronisation with the guest & hosted os's) to tfls customer services (buses division) about the constant idling (no not drivers asleep at the whee- although saying that should really post some of those pictures) of bus engines been constantly left on idling (ticking over) let alone the revving of them, sometimes you could almost be forgiven for thinking you were at a formula one starting grid, on top of the increasing frequency of brake squeals and horn use; and sorry but no, using a horn 16 times outside of rush hour with no traffic holding you up in a residential area is not acceptable.

Sadly it would seem that yesterdays boy/girl racers have turned into todays bus drivers - even the aged ones.

So i was impressed with the attention given by customer services at tfl despite having to numerously repeat the bus numbers every other sentence so they could work out which companies to send the complaints to, indeed I was so impressed that 11 minutes later i detected a slight thawing in my attitude. So much so, my original mad bashings titled 'lies, lies, and tfl customer services' that i was going to put online (which for those who have somewhat followed the odd post can just imagine with that headline what the body of burblings contained) has been temporarily put to one side, not deleted, just placed on hold to allow sufficient time for those extra chances (as though five years isn't long enough) to see how well things could improve over the next couple of weeks - although the ongoing chugging (and screech of heavy brakes at four minutes to midnight) seems to indicate which side of the hill this particular saga's continuing to slide down on.

Because you just know that if the sound was on the other foot, which would be the equivalent of burning down the bus garage, finding every relation of every bus-y driver who refuses to switch off their engines and doing a dexter - whilst the driver is watching, then doing away with the driver too, then ferkling out every official supervisor who has received and read complaints from residents (anywhere) in relation to noise issues yet singularly done nothing about it, to subject them to 24/7/365/4 years worth of 200db taped noise (and yes I know eardrums burst at 120db - remember this trail of mayhem murder and mischief is bit of fiction simply added for indicative effect - and to slowly work ones way up the "chain of command" to the directors, place them into cannons and launch them (feet first) from one side of the channel to the other (and yes I know the success rate of cannoning a person from the english shores to the french has been zero - they simply needed to add more bloody powder) however many times it takes until they get the message: that this is how ignored environmental events can impact on those in the nearby surrounds... i'd be tasered every millimetre of the way to a prison cell and deemed a severe menace (well bar any knicker scorcher flying over that is), until the end of my days.

Loud? When is loud too loud? Maybe i'm just becoming more sensitive as the years tick on by, which would be bloody sad as i was quite looking forward to incipient drooling senility, and the only time i would need to inanely socialise is when been digested and shit out by earthworms - but despite full-ear fitting ear-plugs, over which is a full-ear covering set of headphones i can still hear the squeals of brakes or bus horns, and all through double glazed windows - believe me it's loud; and i am not the only person complaining about it.

To think only a few years ago I was fondly thinking of bricking up all the windows...

Oh my, maybe it really is time to move to the country - middle of antartica about 200m below the surface, or maybe i should install secondary glazing (it already has double before some smarky tit interjects)-, no tertiary glazing and turn one room into a panic/silent/two-fingers to the noise, room with air-purification, lots of plants, foam backed walls to absorb sound, slightly lower the ceiling with padded foam on the other side, suspended floor with noise cancelling inch rubber thick matting and wooden panels... it might just make at least one room semi-nice to live in once more, even if it no longer has the space to swing a dead newborn rat.

Update 30/01/10 15:44 slightly amended to improve readability.

EDF energy: witless in the wind

It's wonderful having friends in differing economic strata's, cultures, faiths… walks of life; as there’s a sundry of differing obsessions, afflictions, things strange and quirky that affects them (and so many others) that I can’t help, rofl (rolling on the(it used to be rotfl but the ‘t’ tends to be silent in its abbreviated form and not mentioned, except by tits) floor laughing).

From one who's idea of happiness is to be up at 6am and finish working around 9pm, to another who is unable to jam a giant foot anywhere, without it first passing – and usually at speed, through his mouth.

So it was interesting listening to the travails of one of them, whose current energy supplier - edf (one of so many megalothipsaurs), was transferring them from a pre-payment “isn’t that going down faster than it should” meter, to a normal everyday happily whirring away to itself unit, the next.

Easy!

The dawning age of computerisation promised paperless offices and a life of complex free ease! If they’d truly ever realised how things would have turned out, I wonder if they’d have smashed those initial transistors and chased the scientists out of town.

Every mechanic/engineer or, in todays five second buzz-wind, ‘customer presentable problem solver’; seems to be umbilically attached to a small electronic recorder come note-taker, especially when working for one of the aforementioned megas. This wonderful little device makes everything easy and straightforward. Ensuring every job is efficiently undertaken with laser smooth precision. Calls with queries to the mothership are made before, during and after installation. But in this current reality it firmly falls into the arena of comic cock-ups, and descends through the human half of the cybernetically twisted union into an epic fail.

But back to them.

Wishing to keep on top of things, they’ve gone down the path of automatically doing weekly readings, which are spreadsheet’d on and offline. So when they received a card requesting meter readings, it was with unbridled joy that they filled them in. Called. Only to find out that according to the computer, and rude representative, they apparently owed £500.

They assured the representative there must be some error, and that couldn't be the case. The representative assured them that was the case, as that is what computer said.

Not sure why but, images of little britain

A potential representative in training?

sprang through my mind as the growing stream of harrumphing continued from both ends.

Oh yes it does… Oh no it doesn’t…

But then, apparently, friends’ phone packed up and they had to reconnect. This time to a different representative. Who put them on hold.

Moments later the new representative was back on. Apparently, representative one had eventually gotten through and found out there was no debt.

I took a sip of tea.

“A what gesture,” my friend asked surprised. “Oh right, a goodwill gesture. You’ll credit my account, with one pound!”

Bubbling tea sputtered into my saucer. After which, despite my best efforts not to, I had to burst out laughing.

Well it's always nice to know what a big megalothipsaur thinks of its charges, when they have to admit to a right royal cock-up their end; and hence avoid.

Will friends’ change supplier?

Apparently, ohhhh yesssss!

Aarggghhhh for shoddy rubbish

The benefits of keeping a receipt - regardless of the time frame - finally showed its worth today.

A while ago - well at the start of the year.  A lovely swivel chair with ample padding, was purchased from Argos (what do you mean serves me right!), and promptly put together with nary a problem until the past week.  

I don't jump on, bang shut, slam down, wrench open, kick, thump or slap any of my belongings whether they're working or not; i tend to find they work far better and usually for longer, that way.  So when the chair started to wobble, I just thought it was the carpet giving me grief, or my centre of gravity changing and i was now seriously one cheek heavier than the other!

But all that was folded away and put back into their boxes, as (see pictures attached), the top part of the chair, fell back and off to the side - luckily carrying me with it.  The bottom portion which contained the upright, now had a very sharp jagged circular remnant from the base of the top - which would by the look and feel have cut and sliced a substantial portion of whatever bit of me it would have caught; with hospitalisation soon after if i'd survived to make that call.

So after making a call to argos, and been very surprised when the representative said, "take it back with the receipt to any argos for a replacement."  But then, saying that would be far quicker than a law-suit.

   

Before that grievous attempt on my good person, I was in the process of observing natures interplay.

HFO services and unprofessional ethics

HFO is a company 'headquartered' in the UK with an office in gurgaon india.  With another two offices opening in 2009, mumbai  and sydney respectively; this is obviously a fast growing dynamic international company.

A company which, to all intents and purposes when you listen in on conversations, might have had many of its first and second tier employees taken from Fawlty Towers, if it had been a finishing school, and they had been forcibly ejected!

The thing about HFO (which you may discover if ever you have the misfortune to come into contact with them), is they're the bottom feeders - in the eyes of debtors and angelic sharks to creditors.

As a strapline quote on their website says...

An ever expanding client base
A global Distressed Debt Investment Company
A unique multicultural environment, with one overriding goal – SUCCESS

Yes a company that appears to be of the mind-set, that if you don't succumb after the first five minutes they'll progress to shouting at you. Use legal terminology to put the wind up. Threaten court as the next step. All in the hope the unlucky plucky person on the other end will say "bang to rights guv. I'll just pop over to the cayman islands and liquidate all my assets as i've seen the error of my ways!"  Hfo services, i presume, can then feel justified in placing another tick of success, into the book of commission whilst throwing the book of good business practice, into the bin. 

Just in time for that presentation to bigger company "a", and buy their debt for peanuts. All to begin the bullying tactics all over again.

Is this unacceptable behaviour? If not, it should be thus described. But what do I know, as an outsider looking on.

A quick bit of typing into any search engine will bring up streams of pages about the antics of this particular company.

But why would I bring this up?

Well the following is just one example of a conversation overheard:

"If you want you can record this conversation.

Legal proceedings have started which will add £80 to your account and when court proceedings occur it will add a further £32; and judgement will be passed against you.

Please do not waste our time or yours by offering to pay £1.

We're not regulated by the FSA and not bound to accept any payment.

Do not waste your paper or our time.  Your £1 will help you reach to the court.

You just need to wait, the calls will not stop and you will not stop the court proceedings"

Here is a link to the consumer action group and forum with experience of hfo and its practices.

Here is a link, in relation to call recording and your rights.

If you have or are been harassed by telephone calls from companies, then here is a link to a letter template that you can send them, to desist.

And finally, just to put the cat amongst the pigeons, here is a link to trading standards - in the uk

So, in summary. Don't sit back and take it. If they, or any other organisation (and there are sharks out there), attempt to force or bully you into doing anything, stick to your guns.  Know your rights, and don't be afraid to get help!

Now, just have to calm my friend down, and begin the process of hunting down the sharks!

Thanks for listening and reading.

Glorious day

Yesterday was such a glorious moment: blue sky, a light breeze, smiling people. I even managed to take the camera out for a little spin; after the flatmate's inner ear required the attention of a doctor.

Living in one of the noisiest parts of town, you get used to inserting earplugs on a nightly basis. But on this occasion, it would seem the plug insertion was carried out a little bit too forcefully. Personally I put it down to a simple case of the flatmate overstressing the body the week before. 

The options were:

1. going to the local gp as emergency and waiting nearly four hours to get seen, or
2. trying out the nhs walk-in clinic tucked away just off the main road in victoria. 

Luckily there's a direct bus (which on this occasion looked as if it hadn't been cleaned since it was introduced) route.  Twenty minutes later we walked in to a practically deserted, modern, clean, fresh smelling reception, with (and this caused a little stumble) an actual smiling receptionist; who took down the details and said the flatmate should be seen in about 15 minutes. It took ten. Ten minutes on the NHS to walk-in and be seen. People came, people left and the doctors and nurses quietly, efficiently, went about their duties.

Even heard one person upon leaving, congratulating the receptionist, "I didn't know you were here, but I'll be using you in future."

And there's the rub.

It's currently good, efficient, with a relaxing - almost healing - atmosphere because it's not stretched to capacity. Once that happens, it will end up like any other gp's surgery. Everyone bad tempered, cursing the day they set foot in, and with a two week plus waiting list.

But the pictures. Not of the surgery but of a couple of other lines that caught my eye...

         

Which ended in a glorious moon...

Delivery revisited: II

With so much happening out there in the ever wide expanding universe; rolling 24 hour news, reality TV - are these more real than actual real life news events? Radio, blogs, disasters, killings, starvation, cabals, fundamentalist's, some bloke spending a few billions in an investment bank unwisely! Murders and general mayhem. It seems rather churlish of me to just pander on, about my little ongoing delivery problem.

But I shall.

As mentioned at the end of Delivery Revisited, I expected the resplendent top today. Between 07:00hrs and 12:00hrs. Its delivery was faithfully guaranteed. Although in hindsight I should have gotten a couple of drops of blood, made them swear their first and second born to perpetual servitude whilst getting those short chains ready, to put to some good use!

To ensure that I would be ready and awake with plenty of time to spare, the night before I did the sensible thing went around setting all the alarms for 06:30hrs. All of them, at around 02:45hrs!

06:30hrs arrived and the klaxons went off. Dazedly I sprang out of bed. Briefly meandered around, waiting for the call and delivery.

12:00hrs arrived and I called them up. To be put on, off, on hold, then 'someone will call you back in 5-10 minutes!'

Fifteen minutes later I get the call. "Very sorry, I don't know what's happened," the voice from the other end said. "They did the paperwork, and sent it through to us, but for some reason they never sent it to themselves!"

"Oh," was all I could muster.

"Will tomorrow morning be okay?" he asks. Sounding very contrite mind.

"Tomorrow morning, like this morning?" I ask, trying to keep the cynicism just below the screaming abuse threshold. "Between 7am and midday?"

"Yes," he replies.

"Well," I feel the buried side of me rearing up. "If it isn't delivered this time, the next time I call it will be for you to collect the whole order, and I will expect a full refund along with compensation for wasting my time."

"Oh," he says. "Okay, it will be with you tomorrow!"

And at this moment, this is all I can recall. As sleep deprivation appears to be sapping my will to live!

Delivery, revisited

The metal thing from Curry's works like a dream. No complaints about it at all. So an excellent thumbs up to the Leisure corp. Whilst throwing a very big, over-ripe raspberry, at Curry's!

And now onto Argos. I suppose having to deal with hordes of people in the retail section is sometimes like dealing with the living dead. But then the very same complaint can be made about those working behind the counters.

My faith, however, in the commonsense ability of the everyday man (or woman) was partially restored by the efficiency of their initial delivery service.

Sadly the shoddy item (made in China), had to have one part returned, and with the only available (apparently) delivery slot, in a week's time; I agreed and patiently waited.

Delivery day arrived and I received a call from the driver, saying they'd be here in five minutes. Ten minutes go by and sitting in the living room, I notice a brightly coloured Argos van go sailing by. Get a call from the driver saying he can't park because it's on a red route. I inform him that if Salisbury's, Tesco's, meal-on-wheels can unload so can he. But no, he's adamant and drives off saying I will have to re-schedule.

I contact customer services to inform them of this turn of events and give them the same information that I have just given the driver.

They contact him. After a few moments I get a call from him saying, he should be here by 14:20hrs, but he will call me five minutes before hand. At 14:10hrs he calls to say he's nearly here, again, and have I removed the cones from the bay? "What cones?" I say, "there is no bay here, it's the road and I will be by the pavement with the packaged item. It should only take a couple of minutes maximum!" After all if Tesco can disgorge £70 worth of shopping in about five minutes, a one metre sheet of non-heavy packed glass, shouldn't take any longer than that.

I go outside, 15 minutes later see the van coming around the corner and I start waving franticly, whilst holding onto the glass. He slows down (in the middle of the road), saying "I'm not going to stop, its a red route."

"You can stop, you're only briefly unloading," I shout to the passing lorry.

So he speeds up and drives off.

I'm flabbergasted. Decide to hang outside for another ten minutes, in case he is turning around somewhere, and coming back. But no!

Go back inside and again contact customer services. In a previous tapping, I might have mentioned the fact that at this stage, all you want to do is scream down the phone. But with large companies the person you usually scream at, is far removed from the actual events occurring outside your door.

Then get a call on the mobile from the delivery side of Argos, and again explain what's been happening.

The next time I have a delivery, will have to make a recording. So when I have contact someone I can just press the play button, which would save so much time and energy.

So the kind lady enquires if I wish to re-arrange delivery. I count to five before saying "yes, any time."

"Is Friday, between 7am and 12am any good?" she asks.

"That's perfect," I reply, wondering what's coming next.

"Well the driver will call you half an hour before. To make sure there's no problems!"

I wanted to say that, having to be up at 6.30am, is indeed a hassle and I shouldn't have to. But just say, "that will be fine."

"He'll deliver it in a transit van, as there shouldn't be any problems with that, for quickness."

I agree.

"Will there be anything else?"

"No, that will be all," I reply.

And with that and another five hours in the future to be wasted, I can feel the urge to send letters out to the Delivery department as well as the Chairman's office, lambasting them about the inefficiency of their set-up!

There are many roads in the capital that are on red routes. Wardens although quick to ticket, are also not stupid and around here they do understand that in many situations a five minute (usually less) drop-off is necessary.

So after an initial burst offering a beacon of hope; sadly Argos to, gets the big over-ripe, raspberry.

No shows: Currys dearth

No, nothing here about the writers strike in the USA. But a gripe about the tripe service from Curry's, subsidiary of DSGi.

Before Christmas this particular item was on sale for £299. After Christmas and in the new year sales, it was again on sale for the whopping amount of... £299!

So deciding this particular bit of metal wasn't going to come down in price, anytime soon, the purchase was made. Expecting two weeks delivery, we (flatmate and myself) were very surprised when a slot was available just five days away. So a great big YES was said to that.

Oh and then - not to forget - the extra added value of a £20 delivery charge on top; after the transaction had been put through. And a firm NO, to the extra insurance protection plan!

...

Five days came and went. The morning before anticipated delivery, we called the number on the receipt to find out whether everything was on schedule. This turned out to be deceptively good. An automated service which located the order and the associated special delivery instructions and time. Delivery, 2.15pm to 6.15pm. Very precise. Let's just see if it lives up to the billing!

...

Delivery day arrives and quickly speeds around to 2pm.

6.15pm comes and goes. No delivery!

6.30pm Dispatch service is called. And there is nothing on the system that indicates that the delivery has been cancelled suspended, or even running late. Even they are quite surprised, that we haven't heard from the driver.

6.52pm receive a call from the drivers assistant, saying they'll be arriving in 5-10 minutes.

7.03pm get a call from the driver. He has finally parked up (150 metres away) and we'll have to go and collect it!

So as the driver argues with his assistant saying he doesn't want to get a £120 fine by parking on a double red line - which would be taken out of his wages and that was more than he earned in a day - we told him that the bay outside of the flat was a single red line, with a sign specifying 'no parking 7am-7pm'. And since he was already 50 minutes late and it was now 7.06pm, there was no fear of him been ticketed by a warder, unless he was still there at 7am.

But no, he was going to drive away, or drop it off in the street; after we'd been waiting in all day - afternoon - for delivery. Leaving us to carry it - a full sized cooker - 150 meters!

Eventually they take it out of the lorry and wheel it to the pavement by the roadside. Still leaving us to deliver it, the rest of the way in.

So once more, Curry's! First place for Rubbish customer service in store. First place for Rubbish delivery service out of store. The only saving grace at this time, is the appliance doesn't appear to have any dents. Whether it works as expected, we will find out tomorrow. When it gets installed.

GP Patient Survey...

When the above popped through the letter box, I thought I'd died and gone heaven.

Perhaps it is me and I have been labouring under a misconception that booking an appointment to see ones GP had been, or is in the process of been, reduced to a week! Perhaps even, at a push two!

So I bite my tongue when I am told the earliest appointment is four weeks away. And bite it even harder when that four weeks have been and gone and I go to find I shall be seeing a locum and not my own regular GP! A Locum in today's parlance, is a professional temp!

They (the government - perhaps more under the previous than current incumbent) have been happy bleating on about the number of billions been pumped into the NHS (National Health Service). But all those billions appear to have been soaked up by the heightened upper echelons remuneration, way before reaching the bottom, in the form of meager scraps.

Would this be a time to mention Consultants, Area Managers, Managers, Secretaries, whose increasing use of days off 'due to stress', must make opening a travel agency within hospital grounds an accountants financial dream. Doctors (not the private - full or partial), Receptionists, Nurses, Security, are more or less front line targets and deserve way more money than they're getting. And of course the humble Cleaners for whom English may be a 2nd or 3rd tongue, a course in English along with a 'how not skimp on the cleaning solution' and report your bosses if forced to' one, would be in order.

On the bottom line - apologises - front-line, it is a shame all those billions spent on the service have proved incapable of ensuring that when your four week wait is over, and you have made it over the threshold (so proving, however tenuous, your claim to be in the land of the living); that the look of disappointment palpably rippling outwards from the front desk - like some bodily emanation as another body hasn't pegged it and manages to stumble through - increases in tedium each dreaded passing visit.

Then the wait to finally see your GP begins. Book an appointment for 10am and if you are lucky, you will be seen two hours later by about 12pm. If anything, you are far better pretending that your body is about to gasp its last and you will be zipped in under an emergency booking. At least then you are guaranteed to walk out in a couple of hours with a printed prescription pre-laden for the next round of pills; praying to which ever god you believe in that you don't have to pay the place a visit, ever again!

If you miss your appointment by 10 minutes or more, you are politely told that you can't be seen. As the Doctor is now busy. And you will have to re-book, for another time! Which is, naturally, another 4 weeks down the line.

How can it be improved? Hard to say. The current economic downturn negates the ability to increase funding. But even then just throwing money at it isn't the right idea; despite the strain it is experiencing, people living longer and having more ailments with increasing age and new forms of expensive treatment coming on-stream.

But what is needed is a root and branch structural review with no sacred cows or white elephants in the closed wing. A review that every citizen is involved with and not just once in a blue moon at election time. The NHS used to work! We just have to find a way of making it work and work effectively (for us all in the UK), over the next few decades!

Are we been well served by the NHS? Only if you're an estate agent, travel company and, with increasing cases of MRSA, MRSi and other yet to be championed unknown bugs around the corner, I have to vouch a no!

One possible view of MRSA infection.

Alas poor Midlands Mainline mugged by East Midlands Trains.

Part I - outward bound

It's not often the delights of first class travel are dangled within the grasp of my greedy paws. But when they are, with both legs, I jump at the chance; especially after having an oil painted picture of linen clothed tables, table lights, serviced tables with complimentary refreshments (including the wine), wider seats with reclining chairs... you bet I jumped at it.

However, unbeknown to either of us. The franchise from London St. Pancras to Nottingham, had been lost by Midlands Mainline to East Midlands Train. And as soon as the journey from London towards the northern territories began, a series of events brought a coruscating tear of laughter gently cascading down my right cheek.

For the travelling occasion I turned out in a pair of chinos - with matching trainers, a nice snazzy but label free jumper, and a shaved head replete of any markings. Now, not been a veteran seasoned first class traveller, perhaps it was the way that I sat, or maybe my jib was incorrectly hoisted or even folded. Either way when other, obviously seasoned first class travellers embarked and started tuttling aloud whether, "is this first class?" whilst glaring at me before moving on, I began to wonder whether it's my attire or just my second head.

But if that wasn't bad enough, then had the train skivvy, I mean guard, sorry train manager; pop along hovering by the table clearing his throat and harrumphing. We both simultaneously deigned to hand over our tickets, forcing him to actually speak. Remarkably he brusquely finally manages to get out "tickets," without spitting. Yet when he sails further down the carriage, and comes across more customers, can clearly be heard asking them "tickets Sir" or "tickets Madam". However, the sickly smile he gave us after receiving our pristine first class tickets provided a scintilla of contended gratification.

Perhaps I have been watching too many black & white films, and those days of courtesy, service, and servitude have long disappeared. Either that or my non-Russian-billionaire status, is finally starting to work against me.


Part II - inward hell

Well the return trip on the inglorious East Midlands Trains train; complete with rude staff that suck, started off with the train been diverted without warning ten minutes after pulling out from the station. The buffet car with 1.5 hours remaining of the journey promptly closed, again without any warning. No skivvy, sorry guard, no, train manager popping along to clip, sorry inspect tickets - so first class was packed and riotous.

From boarding until half way into the journey, only one member of staff was seen.

Then the odd announcement, which held verbal longings for the last days of empire. A hankering for the old days of the blessed Midlands Mainline, quivered over tinny tannoy's. The whole sorry saga made me wonder whether the train manager was also the buffet bar manager, guard, and obviously in line with the new stakeholder's ideas of general cost cutting, also the driver.

I would recommend making the trip from London to Nottingham, if you eschew this particular train company, in a Trabant! It would be far more comfortable and you'd arrive refreshed, even if without style.

Customer service - the elusive fleece.

In this, the speeded age of the fulsome broadband experience, more and more people are getting used to quick replies, instant-action-purchasing (even if the goods might take a couple of weeks to arrive), browsing the globe; instant gratification all at the click of an anonymous button! 

Many companies (good and illicit) are out there, searching for the best way of making money – and anyone who has worked in an Investment Bank above the level of cleaner will know that most of the massaged figures and egos that need soothing, mean that they have to work harder chasing us for our dollars, pounds, euros or yen, eager to part us from our cash, whether hard earned or not.  

So with an eye on the virtual world, the activity of venturing into 'real life' establishments usually;

  a) sends me scurrying back to the keyboard,
  b) leaves me amazed at how far behind so many real world (bricks & mortar) businesses are,
  c) how badly most are failing, in relation to their customer service,
  d) constantly wondering why so many people still stick with them - inertia!
  e) is it me, or have people been taking to much notice of reality shows.

The main incidents which brought home the disparate ability of companies to get things right are Nationwide, Amazon.co.uk, Sainsbury's, Curry's .digital, and finally Holland & Barrett. I shall go through a brief run-down of the varying experiences.

Nationwide – Online, remarkably good service. Far better than the Co-operative Bank, HSBC, or Lloyds TSB offerings. Sadly most of that effort appears to have come at the expense of the retail arm and its high street offerings. Offline - going into the door, you are greeted by a forest of people, slowly moving shuffling forward. Two receptionists, one sitting the other standing are both talking, proactive isn't the first term that springs to mind. Friend goes over to the counter and commenced the 20 minute wait to be seen by (considering the queue is nearly out the door and it's way past lunchtime) the only cashier which is open out of three. After 10 minutes the chatting receptionists turn to the growing sitting group which has been patiently gathering and finally asks “does anyone want to be seen?”. Nationwide had taken over the Portman Building Society in August 2007, and as just goes to show that the accountants bottom final swish of the quill carries far more weight than customers having to wait half an hour. In one particular location the bigger Portman Branch had been closed, whilst a much smaller Nationwide branch (less than 30 seconds walk) remained open and which now services three times the customers. As the cashier said in sad resignation, “It's always this busy since we took over Portman, there's just no extra staff!”. Surprised there hasn't been a riot.

Amazon – Online, excellent exemplary service when ordering and for delivery. If your goods are electrical then sadly that's where things can start to go wrong and fall down. That's were the problems start, as they try fobbing you off by saying you need to return the item back to the manufacturer when in fact if the goods are defective they should replace or refund. However books and Cd's have always been delivered in full functional order.

Sainsbury's – Online, as Amazon and Nationwide, very good and easily navigable, but somehow manage not to have what you order in stock on the actual day of delivery, so they either don't send anything or if the do, the substitute is not acceptable.  Offline - usually the queue in one little local is around 20 people strong, with it been positioned so close to the tube station. But more often than not, all the tills will be open and the staff, speedily conducting customers, purchases.  Speedy, friendly and very efficient.  But to the experience... popping into my local to obtain some mince pies, double cream and bread; hadn't realised it had been a long time since I'd set foot through the doors and was somewhat confused.  In the end had three members of staff finding me the cream, taking me to the bread, and showing me the location of the mince pies.  Couldn't ask for better service.  Shopping would be so much more an enjoyable experience, if we all received the same treatment.

Curry's .digital: Offline, pop into the store and as you wonder around aimlessly (practically devoid of shoppers just after lunch time - with over six members of staff), it takes five minutes for one store assistant to simply look along the aisle and make sure no items were been lifted or touched, before another store assistant finally pipes up and queries if any assistance was required.  Online, very good.  

Moss Bros: Offline, you wouldn't wish this slovenly (their bearing as opposed to dress) bunch of depressing shop fitters on Imelda Marcos, let alone wishing to help in the purchase/hiring of any item.  Online, too much time spent trying to navigate around.

Holland & Barrett: Offline, pleasant and courteous staff.  Within seconds of entering the store greeted and asked whether they can be of help.  Highly recommended.  Online, what can I say but excellent.

With the Christmas season (for those who believe or just enjoy the festivities) there will, no doubt, be people wishing to purchase a whole hoard of goodies, whilst paying the least number of pennies. So here is the OFT website (for those based in the UK), which should be thoroughly scanned to ensure you are aware of your rights, whilst avoiding the spivs, scams and schemers.