Dear Richard Branson,
How absolutely wonderful that you have pioneered and masterminded so many diverse and successful businesses. While I expect you are too busy flying into space to take the time to read my letter, I want you to know that the chief executive in charge of Virgin Media has employed a monkey who’s employed a monkey who’s employed a monkey, trickling all the way down to the monkey who is currently trying to fix my internet connection.
I’ve been a customer of yours for three years now and I think Virgin deserve a number of medals for their unwaivering devotion to public service.
I was thinking a silver for Most Terrible Customer Service, a gold for Most Likely Call Centre To Be In India, and a platinum medal with certificate for Most Likely To Send A Monkey To Do A Man’s Job.
I remember the time I gave up my Virgin Media television after you kept charging me for pornography I was not watching. Oh, how funny that was, Richard! If I wanted to watch pornography, I’d do it for free on the internet, you silly billy. I wouldn’t pay £4.99 per film! But your monkey couldn’t quite understand that concept and continued to charge me for films I wasn’t watching. And when I cancelled my television subscription, your monkey couldn’t fathom that any human being would or could possibly want to be without a television. I was asked to seriously reconsider my decision, and advised to keep my set top box, just in case. Ah, good times.
It’s quite funny actually, Richard, what's happened. I’ve enjoyed three years of broadband with you without too much mishap.
And then we got some lovely new neighbours who, unbeknown to us, wanted to be with Virgin (more fool them). So they arranged for a monkey to come over and wire them up. But then, and here’s the funny part, the monkey decided to cut our line while installing theirs! Ha ha ha!
Left without internet, I could no longer run a business. But don’t you worry your pretty little beard about that, Richard, because your operator in the call centre in India assured me a monkey would be out to fix the problem two weeks later.
Two weeks. How very efficient! I explained that two weeks later wasn’t good enough, I’d lose thousands of pounds of business.
Oh I see, said your monkey. If that’s the case, we can refund you £10 a week until it’s fixed. Clever monkey. Seeing as Forbes rich list cite you as having an estimated net worth of approximately £2.97 billion, £10 a week compensation for my loss of earnings seems totally fair. Should be just about enough to buy the baked beans I’m going to have to live on for the foreseeable future.
Two weeks went by like the clock was wading through treacle. At last, the knock on the door came and two high-visibility vest wearing, white van driving monkeys arrived.
Virgin, they said. How can we help?
Seriously? You haven’t been briefed as to why you’ve been called out? Brilliant. I know absolutely nothing about how the lines are wired or how to fix the problem, but leave it to me to explain to your monkeys what job they’ve been called on, no problem.
Of course, they couldn’t fix the problem, could they? Because they’re only monkeys! A monkey might be able to bash out a Shakespeare play, but that’s only if you give it a typewriter and an infinite amount of time. Your monkeys had neither of these things, keen as they were to crack on with not fixing the next job they were due at.
So now they have gone and I still don’t have service provided. Monkey man tells me that he was sent on eight jobs of this ilk yesterday, and five of them were exactly the same problem as me. Namely, when a new customer wants Virgin, old customers have their signal cut. It’s a questionable business model, Richard, and not one I’d recommend.
I hope the view is nice from your hot air balloon as you soar over the world’s oceans. I’ll be over here, eating beans. While my business falls into disrepair, I can't even watch free porn. And it’s all your fault, you cheeky little monkey.