Claudia Winkleman: Take It From Me

'When I rang BT about being cut off, it was daytime. And when I finished, the kids had put themselves to bed'

OK. So here's the thing. I am about to do what I always promised I wouldn't. Uh, no. Not that, love. Try being with the same man after 10 years and still turning that one down. Ahem.

No, what I am talking about is this: sitting down at my computer to write a column while I'm LIVID about something. Not only that, but I've also run out of milk and the Coffee-Mate's off.

So you see. They don't stand a chance – the people I'm about to rant about. The enemy, if you will. Not only have they made me so furious that I'm considering cutting all my hair off and starting a petition, but also I can't have a cup of coffee.

It's lose-lose.

Let's start at the beginning. And let me also say that I'm really not the type to get all twisted and upset over nothing. Sure, my husband would probably disagree about that statement, but seriously, see paragraph one, that boy's not allowed to complain.

I am also not the kind of person who starts a sentence with: "I just wish things were like they used to be, I just want to talk to a person instead of a machine." Anyone who knows me will tell you that, rather perversely, I love getting older and would rather eat sick than be 18 again. I have no misguided sentimental view of the past and have no interest in revisiting Walkmans, the Thompson Twins and mobile phones the size of bricks. (There's only one exception to this rule and that is Ice Magic – for God's sake someone bring it back.)

Anyway, so we've got all that straight? Great. So now to the nub. About a month ago, BT cut me off. It was perfectly fair as I hadn't paid my phone bill and they had to do something to get my attention. Well done them. My problem is that I refuse to open post (it's just a bad way to start the day and in the evening I'm too sleepy) and I am allergic to the concept of direct debit.

The allergy is starting to impinge on our lives as, coupled with the first "issue", our water has been turned off, we rarely have electricity and once a florist had to actually come over and bang on the window to get a cheque. I'm not trying to not pay bills, I promise. It just sort of turns out that way.

So BT got grumpy and they cut me off. I picked up the phone to order a Pepperoni Passion (it has to be eaten to be believed, but it might be the best invention ever in the history of foodstuffs that incorporate melted cheese) and the phone was dead.

This week, I thought I'd do something about it. I called BT and got my credit card out. I was poised, I was smiling and I was ready. A machine quickly informed me: "If you are calling from the number you want to discuss, please press 1."

Obviously I couldn't do that, so I punched the number in instead. But it wouldn't accept it.

"I'm sorry. We do not recognise that number. Please try again."

So, I did. By the way, still smiling. And still poised.

"I'm sorry. We do not recognise that number. Please try again."

I tried it and tried it and tried it and it's worth mentioning that I was calling from my mobile so their "free" number was no longer, uh, free. I went back a couple of menus and chose the option to talk to an operator.

Now. What I didn't realise is that even though I was calling a PHONE company and even though I had been promised the idea of an "operator", there is actually only one girl and she's looking after the whole world.

64 minutes passed.

Less smiley and less poised.

Finally...

"Hello, this is BT customer services. My name is [something long] and you have come through to me today and I will help you. Now, how may I direct your call?" I explained I was in a rush and that I just wanted to be reconnected. The girl with the long name (who incidentally was sweet and in Delhi and unfamiliar with the whole idea of being cut off) went to find someone to ask them what to do.

While I was on hold an automated man asked if I wanted to take a survey to find out what I thought of the service. I declined, thinking this whole mess would be cleared up soon and that I wouldn't have time.

After 10 minutes the nice girl came back on the phone and explained it wasn't BT who dealt with this problem but someone else, an engineer. OK, I said. Could I get his number?

"He doesn't have a number, madam, but I can try to put you through."

A young bloke came on the line but said he couldn't do much because his computer was down. I asked if I could leave a number and he said no. They weren't allowed to make calls from where he worked.

So I waited on the phone until his computer was up. When he found me on the database he said that BT had put me through to the wrong department and that I needed another number. When I asked him for it he gave me the original number from the first call.

When I started this process it was daytime and when I finished the kids had put themselves to bed.

I'm not phoning again. I refuse. Life is too short. Instead, I don't have a phone. Bang goes Domino's Pizza – and bang goes BT.

I turned down that survey, but you'll be happy to know I've got my answer just ready to go.

What did you think of our overall quality of our service today?

a) Great. Simply brilliant. Long live BT.

b) Not wonderful. Could do better!

c) Appallingly shit. Possibly the worst phone service you've ever come across

Here's a clue: it's not a) or b).