OLD GRUMPY

July 1998 Table of Contents - Current Issue of The Abaco Journal - Abaco Bahamas' Home Page

OLD GRUMPY
[Our Curmudgeon at Large]

I guess all of us have bought a lemon in our lives, something that fell far short of our expectations once we had paid for it. A 1977 Daihatsu still sticks in my craw and my mechanic's lot. My latest lemon, unfortunately, involves a government corporation. My latest lemon is BaTelNet.

Heavens, it was really promoted in a symposium at the Great (as it was then) Abaco Beach Hotel though I should have taken note that things went wrong even then. "A minor glitch," the presentor assured us. "This won't happen when you have BaTelNet on your own machine." Ah, so.

Once the system was set up I prepared to explore the Web, the Net, the Ether, Cyberspace and a few other wonderful places. Actually, for a month or two it was all it was cracked up to be. Then things started going horribly wrong. I suspect that what went wrong was the number of users vis a vis the capacity of the system.

I do not play computer games. Intentionally, that is. But I do find myself playing a kind of game with BaTelNet. One version involves the number of one minute connexions I can make in a 24 hour period. The lengthy billing sheets from BaTelCo form a permanent record of my score. Another version of the game involves the longest connexion that can be maintained. The record for each month is usually around 20 minutes. I give myself double bonus points for the number of people I am trying to e-mail at one time without being able to send. This is a dangerous, exciting game because if I have too many messages to send (and they do build up while BaTelNet refuses to send them) I can't stay on long enough to send them all. The thrill and excitement as my computer indicator approaches the last messages is almost unbearable. Then there's a blip and a message eventually appears telling me delivery failed. Contact YourServer, I am advised. Ha! How?

I have contacted BaTelNet, by the way. And I did not use any cuss words, though I really wanted to. I reserve them for the woman I hear almost every day: "We're sorry..." I deduct 10 points from my score for every cuss. I'm sure the woman who utters these recorded words is a lovely lady but she's going to have some problems when she reaches the Pearly Gates and has to talk to St Peter to justify her entry. "We have a few prayers registered for you, but so many maledictions. So many, so many..."

Every month or so I get a communication from BaTelNet saying they understand my situation and thank me for being patient and they have just installed a tingum or two (the jargon changes every time) that will make things much better. Wrong again. Every improvement claimed makes the system work worse. And, BaTelNet, I'm not being patient - I'm being screwed.

It is unthinkable that any organisation outside of Kafka Inc would subject its patrons to such a ridiculously inadequate service then expect them to still cough up. (Forgive me, Franz.) I don't remember the original spiel saying "Every time we cut you off, we charge you for every attempt you make to get back on again, even though the attempt will usually be futile."

BaTelNet has changed my life. If you see me yawning during the daytime, it's because I have been up in the very early hours of the morning trying to get some business done over the Internet. My wife thinks I have developed a urinary problem that I am keeping from her.

Some of my most embarrassing recent experiences have involved BaTelNet. "You have the Internet, don't you, Grumpy?" I know where this is going. "I need to find the total export of shrimps from Mongolia in 1947. Could you look it up for me?" So you sit down and try to log on. Minutes later: "Are you on yet?" Hours later: "Still not on? This is it? This is the Internet? I'm glad I didn't waste my money on it." Makes you feel slightly homicidal.

Dear BaTelNet, please send all your customers one of the following messages:

1. Dear Customer,

To show our genuine concern over the dreadful service we have been sort of trying to provide, and in return for the intense frustration we have caused you for so long, please be notified that we will not be billing you for the next year. It's free, for what it's worth.

2. Dear Sucker,

Here's your bill. Pay up. We are a government corporation and we can do whatever we please. You have absolutely no recourse and we know it. Stop sending us messages. We know what the score is and we don't really care.

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