It’s not because Mama cannot cope with these pettifogging pencil pushers, she can, and does, but she has a busy social calendar. It’s difficult to find the time.
Prince Charles is in probably the same boat with his mum, although being a bloke, I bet he hives the job off to his wife.
Trust me, I’d pay good money to hear Camilla go through ScottishElectricityGasAndGeneralRipOff Ltd. Bet those conversations wouldn’t end with “have a nice day”.
There is a problem on mum’s power bill. No, not the obvious one of “how much???”. It involves a beast called the Green Deal. It got binned back in 2015. It's still coming off her account. She’d like up-to-date details. OK, says I, I’ll take a look. In a moment of misplaced optimism, I said it shouldn’t take long.
I took the precaution of a bathroom break first. Very wise.
One hour and 15 minutes of unmitigated hell. The vast majority was on hold, listening to increasingly terrible music, apparently recorded on a 1970s tape recorder. Every now and then a female voice thanked me for my patience, probably recorded by some wee lassie called Cathy from Customer Services. Drove me nuts.
My call was finally answered, I suspect on foreign shores. Audrey had not a clue, and transferred me. Different music, but just as bad. Cathy stopped thanking me for my patience.
A mumbling young woman answered, panicked and transferred me again. This time it was Richard, who also admitted he didn’t have a Scooby. He took my number. I held out little hope of a return call, but he did call back, and admitted they didn’t actually know anything about it.
He gave me a number. I’ll load up on snacks, drinks and perhaps a camping toilet before I start this one.
So, the hunt continues, but, ScottishElectricityGasAndGeneralRipOff Ltd, you’re making a mint right now. Stop thanking people for their patience and get more people on your phones.