On the phone to EE Customer Care informing them that the replacement handset they sent me yesterday is faulty.
Me: The volume up button is jammed in position so my phone is stuck on the quietest setting.
Her: “Jammed”? Just trying to figure out what you mean by “jammed”?
Me: Well I mean it’s sort of locked in position so that —
Her: Ha. Uh – “locked in”?
Me: Yeah. It’s locked in position so it doesn’t move when I press it.
Her: And have you tried turning the phone on and off?
Me: Well no, because it’s an external fault.
Her: My darling, you will need to try that first before we can address any further resolutions.
Me: It’s just that turning it on and off isn’t going to stop the volume button from being jammed, so —
Her: Look sweetie, I really must insist you do this. It’s protocol, OK? I’m just doing my job here.
Me: Right, well it’s just that I’m on the phone to you —
Her: Sweetie, I’ll call you right back, that is not a problem. I’ve got your number here so don’t panic. Just make sure you do it, alright my love?
*5 minute break while I sit around NOT turning my phone off before she calls back*
Her: Hey sweetie, you alright?
Me: Uh, yeah…
Her: So has that fixed the problem?
Me: Doesn’t appear to have helped, no.
Her: That’s a shame, sweets. So I’ll get a new handset sent out to your work address. Bit of good news for you at last, because on this occasion I can inform you that we’ve decided to waiver the delivery charge.
Me: Well, you sent me a broken phone so —
Her: OK doll, there’s no blame here. Now as I said, I’ll send it to your work address tomorrow, which I’ve got here as [insert company name] … Oh, you sell theatre tickets?
Her: Oh wow, I love the theatre! You’re a handy girl to know then?
Me: I guess.
Her: So what’s the best thing to do for cheap tickets, shall I call you or … ?
Me: I dunno, just go on the website or something.
Her: I live in London so it’s easier to just pop in store. Let me make a note of this address, and I’ve got your name so I can just ask for you. You’re near the KFC on Leicester Square, yeah?
Me: … Yeah.
Her: Fab. There’s loads I wanna see. That’s a God send babe!
So now I’ve got a date with a condescending, overfamiliar, call centre worker. Fuck sake.