I am getting harassed. A number I do not know keeps ringing my mobile phone. The suspicious number in question is 01709 765330. At first, I missed these calls as I was at work and had my phone on silent. I then then did some research into the number. The dialling code, 01709 belongs to the Rotherham area. Who in South Yorkshire could be trying to ring me? I may have blogged the occasional comment about Rotherham United’s manager, Steve Evans. Could it be him calling to congratulate me on my excellent website? I somehow doubt it.

After doing some more digging around on the internet, I found lots of web forums, where people were posting their distress and annoyance at receiving frequent calls from the very same number I am currently having issues with. While it is evident that this is a sales call, I haven’t been able to find any confirmation of the company behind it, although many claim it to be Vodafone or one of the company’s affiliates.

Quite frankly, I don’t care if it is Vodafone or Frank Butcher calling to offer me a cheap second hand motor, I want the calls to stop. I must have received 10 in the past week. Can’t whoever is ringing me take the hint that “I AM NOT INTERESTED” – it is becoming harassment now. I have read that you can sign up to have your number excluded from certain marketing calls, but why the fuck should I?

Tell you what, whoever is behind that dodgy number, let the world know who you are and tell them all your telephone number. Then people can ring you at whatever time they choose? You call me, I call you. Seems fair enough to me. Something tells me you wouldn’t agree.

I have now set my phone to ‘auto reject’ the number, but am still getting text messages telling me I’ve had missed calls from it. I only wish I could direct that specific number to a voicemail message from Father Jack Hackett, telling them to “Get to feck”.

It takes a lot to make me angry. Sure, I get pissed off on Saturday afternoons when referees give a bad decision against Bath City, or Leeds lose for the 20th time in a row. Generally, I get over such a trauma by the next day. I sometimes feel annoyed at work, but doesn’t everyone? Courier companies have been known to grind my gears too – especially when they throw your parcel over the garden wall – I’ll refrain from mentioning who this was, to save them embarrassment *Cough! Hermes…*

This evening, however, I did get mad. On the walk home from work, I saw lots of men wandering my street with clipboards. They were ringing lots of door bells. Our road seems to get targeted by charity muggers – aka ‘chuggers’ – on a frequent basis. I naturally thought that the clipboard-holding-door-knockers were of that group.

I reached my house and opened the front door, just as one of these ‘men’ were approaching my neighbours. The mystery man clocked me and I clocked him. I entered the house and warned Claire to expect the doorbell to ring and to ignore it.

As predicted, it rang. We ignored it. Somebody bashed the door, with what sounded like an industrial tool. Either Jack Nicholson’s mad, murderous character from The Shining was outside with an axe, or the man with the clipboard was desperate to speak to me. A few minutes passed and the doorbell rang again. I had enough. I answered the door.

A short, plump, balding man was on my doorstep. His chubby hands clutched a blue clipboard. He introduced himself “I’m from the Conservative Party”. That is when I went mad. I was brought up always eat my peas and carrots, but to also despise the Tories, and now that I am old enough to vote and do my own research, I totally agree with my parents’ decision to vote against them. I replied “I would never vote Tories!”. The man looked a little taken aback. He questioned who I intended to vote for in the next General Election. Rather rude. I told him that I would rather not say. I wouldn’t ask him personal questions like what he had for breakfast or the colour of his underpants. I was asked who I voted for last time. I informed him that it was Liberal Democrats, who I wouldn’t be voting for again as they joined forces with the Tory Boys.

I don’t think he’ll be coming round again…

When it comes to dealing with companies who offer poor customer service, I am like Liam Neeson in Taken. OK, I won’t torture the managing directors responsible (although in some cases it would be justifiable), but to quote Mr. Neeson “I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you.”

Back in 2007, I had awful issues with TalkTalk. In the end, I resorted to contacting their chairman, Charles Dunstone, in an attempt to gain compensation and get released from their contract (a contract they did not fulfil).

Then, a few years ago, BT gave me lots of issues. I won a fight with them too.

I fight a war against bad customer service. Power for the people!

My latest fight has been with our energy supplier, NPower. I did not choose to join NPower; they were supplying energy to our house when we first moved in, so I simply continued to use them. Then the problems started. These included a mess up over our account; a threatening email, regarding missed payments, even though we had never missed one; cancellation of our direct debits, without us even requesting such action; promises of call backs, yet not receiving them and wasting hours on hold.

After a battle, which seemed to last longer than a World War, the issue has been resolved. NPower have compensated me with £80. Basically, this is the amount of money they were supposed to have debited from our bank, but failed to do so. They’ve written that off.

Little do NPower know, once the compensation is safely in our account, I’ll be cancelling, getting onto Compare the Market and signing up for another supplier. The best thing about that? Leaving NPower? No. Saving money? No. The best thing about changing our energy supplier with Compare the Market is that we get a free Meerkat toy.