What a time to discover you’re on the ‘grandfather’ of internet packages
We were the first people in Ireland to get broadband. I don’t have documentary proof of that – the modem didn’t come with a little certificate, like the one I got for sitting in the old Cusack Stand on its last day in active service – but I do know that we were hooked up on the very first day NTL rolled out the service. We’d recently returned from the UK, who were a bit ahead of us in the technology department, and for months I’d been seeing important looking billboards grandly announcing that broadband would change our lives. I had no idea what it was, of course, but my head is easily turned. And so, while the rest of the country was still dialing up their internet, we were online and ready for this brave new world.
It’s absolutely sh*** now, of course. In retrospect, I’m not even convinced that the NTL people actually hooked us up to anything: instead, I believe they installed a carrier pigeon under our patio which, every time we try to get onto Netflix, flies off to request permission from somebody in the clouds who is essentially holding two wires together. When I caution colleagues or people frozen on Zoom that my broadband is unreliable, they usually reassure me that everybody is experiencing the same limitations right now. But ours is the oldest, worst broadband in the country. If it wasn’t more than two kilometres away, I would move to Arranmore.
A long time before all this, I did try to resolve the problem. By then, NTL had packed up their tent and left town – presumably in order to laugh at our shocking wifi from a great distance – and we were at the mercy of UPC. So I called them to request a broadband service that might, for example, allow two people to be online at the same time without one of them being hypnotised by a spinning wheel. To be fair, they seemed keen enough on the idea, but then they performed some sort of technical check and told me that it wasn’t a runner. On the basis that I have no understanding of technology and the attention span of a gnat, I can’t explain now what it was that they discovered on their check – I was still trying to get me head around the fact that they could inspect my pipes over the phone – but I know that it wasn’t good.
Anyway, shortly after that, UPC also gave up the ghost – I am beginning to suspect that this may be my fault – and went the way of NTL. So now, without my having any say in the matter, my broadband is in the bearded hands of Virgin. So I rang them. Because honestly, with five adults stuck in a concrete box together and the off licences only open for so many hours a day, this is ridiculous.
It was Rachel I spoke to. Top tip: when you do eventually get through to a real person in any sort of gigantic organization, it’s a good idea to jot down their name so that if it all goes a bit passive aggressive, you can drop it into the conversation in quite a creepy way. As it turned out, there was no need to creep on Rachel because she was absolutely lovely, referring to me as “Miss Fiona” throughout the exchange in a way I enjoyed so much I may now insist on it from everybody I talk to.
Anyway, we were getting on great, me and Rachel, in upgrade heaven. She informed me that what we had was “the grandfather package” – I’m not entirely sure she was supposed to say that out loud, but she wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know anyway – and we were on the verge of doubling our bandwidth and getting another 500 TV channels to boot, when it all went wrong. “Oh Miss Fiona,” she said suddenly, “I’ll have to transfer you to the technical department.” Why?, I asked, the ghost of UPC suddenly tapping me on the shoulder. She muttered something about her not having the technical knowledge required – which made two of us – then passed me back to the piped music, where, after wasting a considerable part of my day, I was given the option of requesting a call back. I did, and sure enough, Virgin called me back, letting my phone ring for exactly three seconds before hanging up. I rang them back then and a recording assured me somebody would eventually call me back. Obviously, that was several days ago and nobody has called. Based on previous experience, I assume they’re all too busy clearing out their desks.