Tales From the Consumer Heartland
It's been that kinda week, frankly.
You know already about the mortgage company from hell who have acknowledged that everytime I talk to them they've cocked something else up, and they're sorry, and they're considering sending me more than £50.
Then, in September 2001 (the past, I know), a car drove into the back of me when I was stationery at the lights. He admitted liability, gave me his insurance details, my insurer got my car fixed, sorted. January 2004, when I change my car, I discover that this is a fault against me because my insurer never collected the money. No I've had to reopen the claim, and have discovered that I have been paying over the odds for my insurance because I've got a "fault" on paper, anyway. Gah.
Then, a new flatmate moved in, and I called the Council Tax people and told them so they could re-organise my bill now I don't get the 25% discount for living on my own. They managed to change my account number three times, and send me and him loads of paperwork that didn't match up. I suspect that I now owe them money. Then I sat around on hold for a few days. No luck. Then I emailed them. No reply. Now, I discover they close on Wednesday afternoons. How 1953 is that?
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