Cunts that Value my Feedback
Yet another aspect of the modern World (where I clearly don’t belong) that is galloping out of control and increasingly winding me up. There seems to be a direct correlation between the rate at which the standard, speed and courtesy of many services is deteriorating and a global obsession with finding out how I score those very same services. My whole life is turning into a gameshow.
Why does everything need a fucking score out of 5?
If I enjoyed the meal and you were a pleasant and attentive waiter, I will tip you a tenner.
If you have charged me for carrying out a full service on my car, yet I can still see the mileage written in my own handwriting on the oil filter that I fitted a year ago, I will leave you in no doubt that I am ‘not best pleased’ and you need to sort the fucker out fairly sharpish.
I do not want, or need, to get home and receive a hatful of Emails asking me to rate my ‘experience’ or whether I would ‘recommend you to a friend’. (Particularly hurtful that one; do I look like the sort of cunt that has friends?). Nor do I want a chirpy follow up Email every day for the rest of my life simply because I once bought a printer cartridge from you.
And even if this practice is understandable and a necessary evil for certain business sectors (thank fuck for Trip Advisor, after all) it seems to have spread to almost every organisation that I have the misfortune to deal with.
Just this week Vodafone Customer Services (Cairo Branch, for some reason), Halfords, Lloyds Bank, my Dentist, my Doctor’s Surgery, my local Pharmacy, SW Trains and Rick Stein are all desperate to know what I think about them. (Just another week in paradise, eh?) I also signed up to do a very popular charity cycle ride in the summer and in addition to asking if I was male/female/trans/other and what ethnic group and religion I represent (surely riding a bike is one of the few things we can all do without disagreeing?) I couldn’t complete the registration without doing a 3-page questionnaire about the registration process itself. For Fuck’s Sake!
Even the local plod, who were far too busy to send someone to investigate when I had a bike nicked out of my garden shed before Christmas, were quick enough to offer me counselling as a ‘Victim of Crime’ and then sent me a bloody online questionnaire to get my ‘Valued Feedback’ on the service provided.
Fuck right off. What about getting my Valued Bike Back instead?
PS Don’t waste your time letting me know what you think about this nomination or anything above, where you first heard it or whether you would share it with a friend. Your scoring – especially if it contains any criticism – means nothing to me and will be given a good stiff ignoring. I need to send out these bullshit questionnaires because some ISO auditor said it would prove I have a Quality Control system in place, but I don’t really give a fuck and I’m not going to change anything based on your response anyway. Save your breath.
Nominated by Gunner Sugden




