BurbleChaz

Hatred is a complex emotion. Literary types have tried for centuries to depict it as a reflection of love. This is another reason why Arts Graduates commonly become morose on learning their true earning capacity. There's no margin in being stupid, vapid and pretentious. No animus here, you will observe. I am reserving the bile for the utility companies of the great state of Victoria.

We wanted our gas and electricity turned on last Friday. We asked a company called Utility One to coordinate the whole thing. As far as I can tell, they are a an outsourced call centre who force the least competent, most expensive utility companies on you, then slope shoulders if there's a problem. I won't use them again.

On Saturday, we have gas, but no electricity. I phone Utility One. They advise me to phone the energy company, TruEnergy. They answer the phone, are polite, friendly, charming and almost completely useless. Just like Utility One.

The apartment is so new that the one across the corridor still has the builders in, putting up walls and other trivia. The real villain of this sordid tale of woe is City Power. I would give you a link, but I don't think they've developed that far yet. They are the local monopoly that actually owns the copper. They've decided that our brand spanking new apartment has been unoccupied for over twelve months. Well done, chaps. Because of this, they require a Certificate of Electrical Safety. When our charming, friendly, powerless pals at TruEnergy tried to get City Power to commission the service at the meter, City Power told them they couldn't. TruEnergy then decided not to bother informing us. Not good enough. I am Very, Very unhappy. I intend to continue saying bad things about them for the forseeable future. They have the need and opportunity to Make Me Happier. They should do so. I shouldn't have to go begging for compensation.

I want to forget the pain and anguish of chasing down the answers to this. I really, really don't want to get involved in the whole tale of nausea. I just want an electricity supply at a new apartment, with a meter installed, in a first-rate city in a first-world country.

So, people involved in this story whom I don't hate include: One TruEnergy person I spoke to today who actually talked some sense.

People I do hate:

• All the other people at TruEnergy who fobbed me off with half-truths, evasions and a total failure to own the problem.
• City Power, Melbourne, Victoria. Hate, hate, hate.
• Origin Energy, for hiring the most fatuous, half-witted, moronic people ever to master the art of picking up a telephone handset. (Hello! It's a potential customer! Sarcasm may not be the appropriate response!)
• Ikea. Natuurlijk.

Moments before chewing my own knees off with frustration, the managing agent for the apartment put me in touch with an electrician. He's going to bimble round early tomorrow (0730 early), check the place, issue (we hope) a totally unnecessary certificate, and we can move on from here. I find it a lot easier to trust someone who answers the phone "Hi, Kevin here." than "ThankyouForCallingTruEnergyMyNameIsTracieHowMayIHelpYou" (and that after ten minutes in a phone maze.)

If the protagonists in this story feel i'm being unfair, they could, perhaps, connect my XXXXing power supply. Then, I'll get all reasonable again. And switch my supply away from them as fast as I can. Hate.

The flat is looking a lot better. When you're on hold talking to customer services, whacking the hell out of nails with a hammer is strangely calming. "There's a loud noise in the background. I can't hear you". "Hang <bang>on<crash>a<thump>moment. Ok, done. What were you saying?"

I recommend it.