I telephoned T-mobile to settle an outstanding bill of Jimmy's. He forgot to pay it a while ago because he had decided to switch to pay as you go, and they had sent a demand.
I explained that I was paying it on behalf of my partner. They asked for his password. I said I didn't know it. They said I couldn't access his account, because it would be a breach of T-Mobile's security policy. I explained that I didn't want to access his account: I had his account number, address, phone number and outstanding amount in front of me and was prepared to read them out over the phone. I was, in fact, prepared to give them my Bank Account details, on trust, in order to settle the bill. "It's a breach of data protection," the pompous twit told me. I assured him it wasn't - they would not need to disclose to me anything about the account I did not have in front of me. I did my usual "I appreciate that you're not empowered to take such decisions, may I speak to your superviser." Twunt hung up. I vented my spleen. Tim and Lily both said that they often pay bills for their partners and vice versa. I pondered whether there was perhaps a technical breach of the Data Protection Act. Lily pointed out that if I took the bill to the bank and paid by cheque, the bank would not demand his T-mobile password.
I thought I would try Lambeth Parking. Driving in Bus Lane fine. Oops - actually, I thought they only applied 4-7 pm, this was 2.40 on a Saturday. Mistake. Genuine mistake. Hands up. Will pay fine. £50 if settled within 14 days; £100 within 28. Trouble was, it took 14 days to arrive, due, no doubt, to the post strike. The automated payment line was saying £100. I rung another number where a very pleasant young man, on hearing that I was happy, well willing, to pay the fine but felt the £100 was a little unfortunate, explained they were allowing a little leeway because of the strike, gave me another number and politely urged me to pay it promptly.
I got the most incredible woman on the phone. Sarf London's finest. I would say she was shouting, although not actually in volume. Very aggressive. I explained. She asked me whether I had got the right ticket. I double checked the number. "That was issued on the 11th October," she yelled, Jade-like.
"No, the incident occurred on the 11th October; the ticket was issued on the 23rd October"
"No, it says ere, 11th October."
"It says the incident was on the 11th October. The ticket was issued on the 23rd. It says so twice. It arrived on the 6th November. Delayed, I assume, because of the postal strike."
"When was the postal strike?"
"I didn't get any post in the week beginning 27 October. I got my first delivery on 3 November. This arrived on the 6th."
"And you want to pay £50?" incredulity."'Old on."
Hold. Hold. Hold. Hold.
"But it is only £50. You said it was £100."
"Well, I tried your automated service; it said £100."
"What automated service? Is this the right ticket?"
"Please please please can I give you my money."
And eventually, after various more " 'old ons", I was relieved of the fine.
I'm sure there must be an easier way to spend over a hundred pounds...
