A G helL

While I'm not the kind of guy to start off any relationship with a massive rant (well, okay. I am... but get to know me first, mmmmmmkay?)...

There are now three little letters of the alphabet guaranteed to get me into a frothing frenzy like a cartoon dog from a Tom & Jerry sketch.

A.G.L.

While the site blurb states that Australian Gas Lighting was started in eighteen-hundred and who-gives-a-damn, I'm much more inclined to believe that the acronym really stands for something else. Perhaps... oh, I don't know. Aggravation Guaranteed Limited or Another Group of Losers are two possible solutions.

Being a grunt who works for a major player in Australia, listening to bile eruptions from all levels of humanity (and a few below it) and a former small business owner, I would say that I'm fairly well versed in the basics of customer service. I try to solve problems and answer enquiries with speed, intelligence, good manners and, wherever possible, a little wit and charm. While I don't expect all the lunatics I get my services from to reciprocate, it'd be nice every once in a while.

This all started when my darling wife and I moved 800m up the road into a new apartment. We'd been with our old supplier of electrons for about a year and were perfectly happy in that we never had to think about electricity. Bill comes in. Bill gets paid. Bill goes into file folder. Yes, I still have bills from 2007 in a nice organised folder.

So, we move in to our new digs. Nice, modern and well-located. This is where things start to go a little pear-shaped.

Apparently (and I only found this out today) at the time we moved in, AGL had the billing rights to the building and, after nearly 12 months of residence, sent "The Occupier" a bill for nearly $1000. I thought that since I was getting a load of mail for the previous resident, it was his and he hadn't paid before he left. A typical story around the world.

When I called up, they seem to have started a new account (this one in my name). So, after getting a Final Demand - Pay Up Or We Send The Boys 'Round type of letter every three months, my wife relents and makes her own enquiries. With a long list of notes from where I'd called previously that they "can't quite read" (helps to pay just a little attention in class, eh?) and much escalating, pays the outstanding balance of a little over $1000 in the vain hopes of a somewhat more peaceful existence.

Oh, that it were that simple.

Today, we receive another Final Demand letter. This one for the acct in my name that I never wanted or asked for. Dated 18 September and magically increasing another $25 in 6 days. but Does any one know a loan shark who charges 10% interest per week? Even the most cold-hearted bank manager would baulk at that!

So, after another 40 minute phone call, this one gets paid too. After paying $1300 in two days, can I have a letter stating that all accounts for this address have been closed and have no outstanding balances. No, of course not!

Fine. I decided to make it plain (although my wife flowered it a little) that if they ever contacted me in any way again, be it anything other than a letter of apology for how dire their customer service is or the letter that I requested, I'd be contacting the Ombudsman.

I'm sure there's folk out there in Terra Australis who are perfectly happy with this particular dog and pony show and to them I wish the very best of luck. Personally, I'd rather be the co-star of a Tijuana donkey show than deal with them ever again.