Oyster Card Rant!
I know it is a pretty mundane thing to blog on, but I have to tell someone about this abysmal situation.
Today I received a TFL marked envelope, which I excitedly assumed was my Student Oyster Card (30% discount on travel in London). The letter therein went on to describe how my debit card payment has been declined, so no Oyster for me. Fair enough.
The killer is that in order to obtain my discount, they want me to send - in a new envelope, with a new photo attached, with a new stamp on it, written in new ink from my new pen - a new form (which happens to be printed A3 on new thick glossy stock). What an absolute waste of time, money and paper and resources.
The list of people who's lives are unnecessarily effected by this is extensive: the postmen who have to deliver the letters, the administration at my university when I have to battle for a new form, the monkeys who have to process these applications, you for having to read this. And so forth.
It gets worse. I took the situation in to my own hands and decided to call them and give out working bank details directly. No such luck. After listening to a good 15 minutes of dreary, slow voice recordings offering me numerous useless options (which assume I - the end user - am a complete moron) I got through to the queue to talk to a real person.
My verdict is that there is no real person. 15 minutes and £4 worth phone credit later an automated voice recording plays, offering me a new phone number to call. Click. End phone call. The number they had given was the number I had called in the first place.
Not just bureaucracy my friends; automated bureaucracy.
Today I received a TFL marked envelope, which I excitedly assumed was my Student Oyster Card (30% discount on travel in London). The letter therein went on to describe how my debit card payment has been declined, so no Oyster for me. Fair enough.
The killer is that in order to obtain my discount, they want me to send - in a new envelope, with a new photo attached, with a new stamp on it, written in new ink from my new pen - a new form (which happens to be printed A3 on new thick glossy stock). What an absolute waste of time, money and paper and resources.
The list of people who's lives are unnecessarily effected by this is extensive: the postmen who have to deliver the letters, the administration at my university when I have to battle for a new form, the monkeys who have to process these applications, you for having to read this. And so forth.
It gets worse. I took the situation in to my own hands and decided to call them and give out working bank details directly. No such luck. After listening to a good 15 minutes of dreary, slow voice recordings offering me numerous useless options (which assume I - the end user - am a complete moron) I got through to the queue to talk to a real person.
My verdict is that there is no real person. 15 minutes and £4 worth phone credit later an automated voice recording plays, offering me a new phone number to call. Click. End phone call. The number they had given was the number I had called in the first place.
Not just bureaucracy my friends; automated bureaucracy.