Here is why I believe our urban focused, money making time wasting society is a fail. Granted I am currently a little biased towards the antiestablishment, for reasons you are about to find out.
I booked myself a nice 5 day break to visit some friends in New York to see them over the christmas holiday period. Now he had many friends staying at his over New Years, and it would have been much more convenient for me to stay with him at this time however it cost me double the price. Double the price! Why do they put the price up so much? Obviously it’s because they can, but what right do they have? They still make money don’t they? Why is it that we are determined to make as much profit as possible? So that we can buy expensive cars and big houses? What would happen if we taught the young that life was not about fancy schmancy stuff, owning the biggest or the best, and that happiness can’t be bought, but that it comes from the people who care about you, and experiences. Well if these experiences cost me £699, your damn right I’m not going to pay for it.
Anyway, that is the first of my many digressions of the blog.
So I continued looking, and found that 4 days later on the 5th of January miraculously the flights were half the price they were over the new year period. So after saving up enough money, I bought the tickets and started planning my trip to New York...well actually it was Rhode Island, but that becomes relevant a little later on.
Lets jump to the day before travel. Monday the 4th of January 2010. After learning the year before that the bank assumes if I don’t withdraw money from the same ATM machine that somebody else must be using my bank account. How convieninent it is for me when they call every other day wondering if it was somebody else that used my card in the USA. I bought the plane ticket using the card, I spend money at the airport on both sides using the card...IT WAS ME THAT WENT ON HOLIDAY!!!
That’s not even the worst part about the banks. They call me, and this is usually how the conversations goes,
BANK: Hello there, I am calling from HSBC is this Mr. Roston?
Mr. ROSTON: Yes this is him
BANK: Hi there Mr. Roston, I now just need to ask you some security questions to confirm it is you speaking on the telephone
Me: Well you called me, so why would you call me if it wasn’t me you wanted to speak to
B: Mr. Roston its for security purposes we need to confirm that it is you speaking on the phone
Me: I answered, you then asked me my name and I confirmed it was me speaking on the phone, as far as I’m concerned thats enough in terms of caller to caller clarification? Do you call up your Mother after work and go, “Mum?” “Oh Hi darling” “Oh Hi Mum, before we continue our chat I just need to ask you a few security questions to confirm it is actually you speaking on the phone” “But I’m your mother” “its for your own good Ma’a”
B: Yes I have to ask these questions whenever I use the telephone
Me: Okay then, fire away, but be warned, I’ll need to ask YOU some security questions after just to confirm that it is you, the bank calling me.
B: Mr. Roston that won’t be necessary, I can tell you know that I have all of your previous transactions over the last three months up on my screen, including the recent 3 month trial your purchased last Saturday night for Adult Playground XXX at the value price of £9.99, which includes 6 other free websites. I am guessing your date wasn’t so successful?
Me: Tha….That wasn’t me, it was my brother who recently lost his credit card...anyway you were meant to be asking me some security questions, so that you can confirm it is actually me your talking to, so that you can ask or tell me something which I probably don’t need, want or know anything about.
B: Mr. Roston I just need to know the name of your mothers maiden name
Me: Well I’m not entirely sure but I think its Bernstein
B: That’t not what I have got up here…
Me: Are you sure? Because she is my mum, and that was her maiden name.
B: It begins with B, and although I can’t spell it out to you, because that would be cheating, it certainly doesn’t sound like the word you just said
Me: I didn’t realise this had turned into a test, Lady on the phone from the bank
B: It’s no test Mr. Roston, just some simple security questions
Me: Is this phone call free?
B: Nothing is free Mr. Roston, this phone call is charged at £1 a minute from BT Landlines, other networks may vary. You should contact your network provider for more information
Me: Well how was I meant to contact my network provider to find out the cost of a call which I’m not even making, or didn’t even know about! Am I meant to hang up on you, call my network provider which will cost money, to find out how much the call is going to cost for when you call me, although I’ll have to then call you back for a conversation which I don’t particularly want, or even know about, to then ask for my details all again which we disagree on?
B: Okay Mr. Roston
Me: If you don’t think it is me you are speaking to, why do you keep referring to me as Mr. Roston? I DON’T UNDERSTAND!
B: There is no need to get angry Sir. I just called to let you know that we think somebody else has been using you card abroad. Have you been abroad recently.
Me: Yes. New York
B: Oh, well the card was being used in New York.
Me: Yes, that’s because it is my card, it belongs to me. I was in New York and I used MY card.
B: Very sorry to trouble you sir.
*pause*
B: Is there anything else I can help you with today Mr. Ros...I mean Sir?
Me: Anything else you can help me with? I didn’t want your help in the first place!
So this year, in a pre-emptive move, I thought I should just call the bank and tell them I was going to be in New York over the next few days, so don’t worry if my card is used there, because its me using it.
Great.
So now we come to the big day. Travel Day. I set my alarm, and manage to get up, and return the library book which was a little over due. It was a day late. I had to pay a £5 fine for a book which I didn’t even use, and which hasn’t been taken out of the library in about 14 years. £5. That didn’t put me in a great mood but all was well, because I had booked a taxi to take me to the coach station. I had given the taxi company 30 minutes to take me 5 miles. Having a good knowledge of the route as I had done it the year before meant that the journey should take about 10 minutes, leaving roughly 20 minutes waiting time or emergency time incase there was heavy traffic or I slipped over when stepping out of the cab. That sort of stuff.
Minor crisis number 1. The cab was 10 minutes late. ETD of coach = 10:30. Amended ETA of taxi to bus depot from 10:10 to 10:20. This was leaving the margin of error quite tight. The margin of error was become slimmer and slimmer as since arriving back in my house from the library and opening the front door to get into the cab, it had been snowing extremely heavily, and I knew that there would be heavy traffic. But, nevertheless I was still feeling slightly cheery, as the cab driver was talking continuously and I had no idea what he was saying, which made me giggle a little. In fact I was having a merry little chuckle right up until he pulls into a petrol station and declares in possibly the most stereotypical Indian accent ever that when it snows, his car uses more petrol, so he needs to fill up.
Stupidly I didn’t say anything. I just nodded. This was the worst time to sit there and passenger nod, as if you understand and agree with everything that this man is saying. He could be talking about blowing up the houses of parliament and I would sit there and agree. I think its because he has jurisdiction of where I end up, and how long it’s going to take until I get there. Power like this should not be given to people who can’t speak English in a clear dialect.
He pulled into the petrol station. The clock now read 10:17. I knew it was going to take 7 minutes in normal conditions to get to the station, add an extra 5 for slow traffic and that makes and ETA to the bus depot 10:32. ETD of coach as previously mentioned was 10:30. I somehow needed to convince the entire coach company in the next 12 minutes, that they should delay the coach down to Heathrow airport because of the moronic non-literate late taxi man who currently is filling up his car with petrol just because its snowing. I was quite figuratively speaking...fucked. For several reasons which I already knew.
The coach wasn’t going to wait for me
The next coach down to Heathrow Terminal 4 left at 1 and arrived at 4.30. My flight leaves at 5.
There was nothing I could do about points 1 and 2.
Either way, I thought the best thing to do at this point was to call the coach company and find out if the delays from the snow had effected the ETD of the coach I needed to catch down to Heathrow. I spoke to a lovely lady on the phone. She was so lovely that I wished she was the lady that taught all other people who answer phones how to be when calling companies when there is a problem or if you need any help. She told advised me that the best thing to do was to change my ticket to the next available coach down to Heathrow, which left Birmingham at 11.30 and although it stops at the central bus station, I should have plenty of time to get from there to Terminal 4. That was realistically the only choice I had. So I changed my ticket.
While the lovely lady on the phone was telling me what to do, the moron driving the taxi had pulled up outside the coach depot. 10:36am. Late. I handed him a £10 note and waited for the £3 change he owed me (as I had asked for a quote when I first called up). He looked at me, looked and the note, looked at me again and then said something which for the first time all journey I understood straight away
“For the snow…”
For the snow, I thought. “For the snow?” I repeated back to him. Was he out of his mind?! For the snow?! I was extremely confused as to how he saw the situation. I’m going to number again the issues which were confusing me
He arrived 10 minutes late
He then stopped to fill up for petrol
He made me miss my coach, possibly resulting in me missing my plane
He drove like a moron through the snow
He didn’t speak english
He STOPPED FOR PETROL
I MISSED MY COACH!
And he wanted a £3 tip? Wow. He has, without a shadow of a doubt been automatically promoted from genuine moron, to the top spot of the premier league of taxi twats. Top spot. Numero Uno.
I wish it ended there. I wish I could tell you that I managed to get on the 10:30 coach which had decided to some miraculous reason to delay itself at the depot for 10 minutes. But that was not the case. I did however wait until 11:30 and at 11:30 there was a coach to Heathrow. At 11:30 the coach left for Heathrow.
11:38am. The front right hand windscreen wiper breaks and the driver can’t continue driving without it. We have to wait for a mechanic to asses whether or not we need to catch another coach. 12:07pm and the mechanic arrives. 12:08pm, the mechanic decides that it will take 3 hours for him to fix the wiper, so best get another coach.
Great. I was now running 2 hours behind schedule. My flight leaves at 17.05. If I had caught the first coach, and everything had gone to plan, I was arriving at Heathrow at 13:00, with 4 hours until the flight departs. If the second coach I caught had run to schedule, I would have arrived at Heathrow at 14:00 with 3 hours for check-in until departure. The third coach arrived to pick us up from where the second coach had stopped at 13:15 I am writing this blog while on the 3rd coach and its arrival time at Heathrow central bus station is 15.45. I somehow need to get from the central bus station, so the check-in desk in 15 minutes before they close and 16:00.
This is why I have no faith left in our society. If the taxi-man had not done the sneaky job before me to earn a little extra cash, he wouldn’t have been late. If the coach company wasn’t so concerned about earning as much profit as possible and that departing and arriving on time is essential because business people need to get to meetings to make deals to earn money to buy things they don’t really need or want, if everybody just CHILLED THE FUCK OUT, then I wouldn’t be late for my plane to go and see my friends to share love and laughter which are not only the best things in life, but they are both free...
I’m not going to lie, but I feel a little anxious, and I’m not entirely convinced I’ll make it.
Wish me luck!
Wednesday, 6 January 2010
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