Categories: uncategorized
Date: 02 June 2011 11:20:05
I swear that my credit card company has entered into a conspiracy with Mesh Computers to drive me utterly, howling-at-the-moon, certifiably insane.
Wind back the mists of time to the beginning of March this year, when I decided that my computer, which came from Mesh Computers lo these many moons ago and has done me sterling service ever since, was starting to make funny noises whenever I asked it to do anything more complicated than send an e-mail or run Tweetdeck. This is a bit of a pain when you take as many photos as I do.
March being annual bonus time, I went onto Mesh Computers’ website, specced up a nice grossly-overpowered-for-what-I-need-it-for new computer, thinking “my previous computer came from Mesh, they can sell me a shiny new one with many things that light up and go twing! and everyone will be happy. They will have lots of my money, and I will have a nice computer that doesn’t sound like it’s choking to death.”
Like a complete idiot, I didn’t do anything sensible like put “Mesh Computers complaints” into the search engine of my choice.
I ordered my computer. I paid for my computer. I put the money aside into my savings account so that when the credit card bill came in, I could pay it off in full, like the sensible grown-up I occasionally pretend to be (stop laughing at the back, it’s not nice).
Mesh promised me that I would take delivery of my shiny new computer “within 10-14 days.”
14 days after my order was placed, my computer was still being built.
I phoned them up.
“About those fourteen days,” I murmured, gently. “Were those business days or week days?”
“We’re waiting for a part. It will be in on Tuesday, you’ll have your computer by Friday of next week.”
Friday of next week, I phoned them up, for lo! the status of my order was still “parts being allocated to the machine.”
“We’re waiting for a part. It will be in on Tuesday, you’ll have your computer by Friday of next week.”
Bad Things Happen To Boys Who Tell Lies. Or, you know, I throw a strop and cancel my order, one of the two.
“You’ll have your refund in fourteen days.”
“Is that the same sort of fourteen days that you promised me my computer in, or an actual fourteen days?” I enquired, somewhat frostily.
“Ahahahahaha. Um.”
Fourteen days came and went, with nothing of note happening, apart from the non-appearance of vast quantities of Her Majesty’s wine vouchers in my credit card account.
A further sixteen days, making thirty days, the legal limit for failing to refund a customer, came and went with nothing of note happening, apart from us moving offices. They’re nice, our new offices. I have a lovely view of the bins. Oh, I cycled to Oxford as well. You can still sponsor me, if you like. It was great fun and nobody fell off.
Mesh Computers’ accounts department phone is not merely “not answering,” it’s not even ringing.
I finally spoke to someone in the accounts department, “um, yes, your refund has just been authorised by my manager, you should have it in three days.”
Yes, quite. Is anyone believing them at this point? I’m not, and I’m a trusting soul…
I phoned the credit card company’s disputes team, log a dispute, and wait for the forms, which arrived on 17th May (after I phoned them on 10th to raise the dispute). I filled them in, signed them, took them into work to scan them and put them in the post.
[cue tumbleweed]
I phoned their helpline on 31st May.
“Oh, we’ve not received your form.”
“Can I e-mail it to you?”
“No, but you can fax it.”
I had to ask someone where our fax machine was in our new office. Turns out that it’s down in the basement, in a lonely corner of the post room. If anyone is looking for the Ark of the Covenant, you could probably start by looking there.
So off I trotted to the basement, clutching six pieces of paper, and faxed the form off.
Being completely paranoid by this point, I phoned the credit card company that afternoon.
“It’s not been logged onto the system yet, but call us in the morning.”
I phoned the next morning, as instructed.
“No, it’s not been logged onto the system yet.”
I called them today, with the loud ticking noise of an approaching deadline echoing in my ears.
“No, it’s not been logged onto the system yet. I’ll chase it up urgently and call you back.”
Faxes, I ask you. Hello, the 1980s called, they want their technology back. The thing is, as far as I can tell, the faxes arrive, are printed off and then scanned onto their system. Why can’t I e-mail them a PDF?
I swear, if I’ve not heard back from them by lunchtime, I’m going to my nearest branch and handing it over to the staff in person.
And the really, really, really annoying thing? I still have to source a new computer from a company that won’t use me as a source of free business finance whilst they slowly go bust and tell me lies.
Now is the point where I’d normally say “don’t touch Mesh with a ten foot pole and definitely don’t ever give them any of your money,” but at roughly the point I was thinking “faxes? What the heck?” Mesh Computers went into receivership, prompting me to pull the world’s least-convincing surprised face, and was sold to PC Peripherals, so I don’t think you can any more anyway.
Meanwhile, if you want me, I’ll be up on Hampstead Heath, howling at the moon.