Who can genuinely not like them? They are a terra incognita, fresh to be explored, and cultivated. But there is one Virgin in particular that you do not ever want to touch, no matter how horny you are, how sex-deprived and desperate. It is Virgin Media. She might offer you her goods, quite willingly, although at a price - you see, a virgin, and a whore already - and try to reel you in with her goodies. There is the fibre optic cable, thus far a Virgin Media exclusive, that guarantees a stable connection so much more than the quite sketchy phone line. Plus, as an added bonus to the stability, you do not have to pay for a phone line if you do not want it. Oh, so convenient, right? Yes, right up yours.
It is mainly the men who are weak when faced by a virgin, driven by the inexplicable but seemingly natural urge to plunge their face into her beautiful lap. And so it was even with me; heeding none of the online slander I set out and put my credit card on the line: one of those, please! And one of those was supposed to be supplied to me, in approximately eleven days. Oh, the bliss that assuredly awaited me, the comfy and almost ecstatic humming of my computer as the newest episode of an unnamed television series from an unnamed television station in an unnamed country on an unnamed planet slowly made its way to my hard drive…or just the possibility to check my email. Each to his own.
I absolutely forgot we are told by ancient philosophers that life is never that simple, and though I have no idea how they knew about broadband back then, I must concur. A mere two days later I am served with the “Do-Not-Reply-To-This” type of message, wherein I am promptly informed that the time slot I chose for the installation is available no more. Also, I am given a new slot, ten days later and completely at random, devoid of any “are you going to be at home, sir?” or “what different date would suit you best?” clause. And as it turns out, no, I will not be at home at that time, and doubly no, this date does not suit me.
I get back to customer services, asking what all this means, and telling them of the problem I have with the date. No reply. As my dwindling supply of patience slowly runs out and still not a word from the depths of the internet, I march forth on a quest into the dragon’s lair - the local Virgin Media store.
My enquiries are met with blank stares or hostile sneers. These people have issues - maybe that is where Virgin Media’s name comes from, all of their employees look as if they were in desperate need of getting laid. It is explained to me that I need to call customer services, not write to them, which will of course incur a substantial fee, but do not worry, they reassure me, you can ask them to call you back.
I hate automated phone machines. By the time I get through to an operator, I had had to dial more numbers than I wish to recount, and it had taken almost ten minutes. I can vividly picture the blasphemous smile on the operator’s face as he announces that he cannot call me back, sorry. What was it you needed?
By this time, I want to cancel the service and fortunately there is a 28-day satisfaction guarantee attached to Virgin Media’s service, so I tell the operator I want to use that. As a response, he starts psychically blackmailing me. Evidently, I am a complete loser if I leave them, because a) only they provide the Awesome Fibre Optic, b) I will have to wait much much longer before I get any kind of internet c) I will have to pay a phone line, since a), d) I will have to pay buckets of money only to get the phone line installed, and e) I am just a loser, because I will lose all the benefits they offer, related to points a), b), c), and d). No wonder half the population is on anti-depressants. I say I do not care, just cancel the installation date and my service. Sure thing, is his reply, I will.
Three days later I receive a bundle in the mail - a router, modem and cables from Virgin Media. “Say hello to your bundle of tricks.” All I can say about their tricks is that they are filthy backstabbing ones. I bite the bullet, still hoping I am in the clear; they simply must have sent this bundle before I called in to cancel. No thank you, more to come. After receiving a letter confirming my direct debit I get really miffed and stride upon stride storm back to the local Virgin Media Store.
Fortunately enough, this time the shop is not full of sleazy guys with sex deficiency syndrome, but is occupied by I must say, rather intelligent people. Even though they repeat the same phrase as last time, “we are just a local shop, we cannot do anything to help you,” they at least let me use their phone and put me through directly to someone who hopefully can. Talking to that person, I find out I in fact did not cancel my service at all when I last called; how that happened and what my actual purpose for calling them was remains a mystery, perhaps forever. Luckily for me, I still have two days left out of my 28-day satisfaction guarantee. Cancel, cancel, cancel. I just hope it goes through this time.
Summarized, you do not want to go through this. Ever. Just go with an alternative, there are plenty out there, and some of them are even a better deal for your money, your nerves notwithstanding.
Myself, I found something that was just a couple pounds more; I have double the connection speed, a working phone line and I did not have to pay any fees for the line installation. Go figure. Was the installation of that service better? Not really. Seemingly it is a real pain in the arse to get broadband internet in Scotland. I am glad I have mine already. Only three months after arriving here. Sounds amazing, do you not think?