The Virgin Cometh

"'Twas on a Tuesday morning, the engineer came round; he searched in ev'ry corner, and look at what he found!"  I have to begin this post with an apology to Michael Flanders (1922-1975) for that awful parody.

It all began a couple of weeks ago.  For quite a while, I'd been pestered by nuisance calls from legitimate businesses, trying to sell life assurance, funeral cover, or PPI claims, or else doing market research.  It got to the point where these had reached 20 in five days, and I resorted to the Telephone Preference Service.  This can take up to a month to permeate all the systems that respond to it, so I was disappointed, but not surprised, to receive what appeared to be yet another of these.

I was about to hang up on this polite young lady, when she said she was calling from Virgin Media.  Now, over the years, I've received countless large white envelopes from Virgin, containing all sorts of offers and inducements to persuade me to subscribe to their services.  That's just the ones I'd opened.  I got into the habit of seeing the name, and putting them into recycling unopened.  I had associated Virgin with television.  Having not had a television set myself for many years, and not wishing to depart from my happy telly-free life-style, I had seen no point in exploring their services.

However, this was the first time that I had actually been phoned by Virgin!  This novelty, coupled by the sweetness of Sabrina's voice, persuaded me to listen.  I explained my absence of need for television, and my objection to paying for services I would never use, and was offered a bespoke package of what I do need at a price which will save me £250 a year compared to what I have been paying BT!  What's not to like?  Following all the appropriate caveats, I signed up that very day.

Thus it was that, at about 10.0 on Tuesday morning, the Virgin engineer arrived.  I had not be told specifically what the installation entailed, only that according to their records, the Virgin fibre-optic service had already been provided to the block of flats where I live.  As soon as he entered the lounge, he began looking around the walls and spotted in the corner, where it had been hidden behind a bookcase ever since I'd moved in, a plastic box of what I had concluded all those years ago to be 'television gubbins', and therefore not required.

His fumbling investigation told him that its contents were now out of date and that, to replace them, he would need the bookcase to be moved.  While he went to his van to get his tools, I set to work to unload well over 100 books and shift the double bookcase out of his way.  Once the wi-fi hub had been installed and tested, I began to replace the bookcase.  Behind my back, he was peering behind another bookcase ... the Virgin telephone point there had completely escaped my memory, but now it suddenly assumed an unexpected importance.  Although I never use my landline, this had to be made live to complete the installation process.  Thus several more metres of shelf-space had to be cleared and shifted!

By 10.45, the engineer had completed his work and departed, leaving my lounge in chaos.  It was a good opportunity for a clean-up, though.  At 12.15, with the books replaced, several large cobwebs hoovered up, and order restored, I was inspired to further clearing operations after lunch, and a number of unwanted items are now queuing up for disposal.  I found lurking behind some of the books, a solo book-end in the form of a metal cockerel.  His mate had fallen awkwardly some years since, and lost its base. 

I realised the potential for this redundant rooster to have a new career as a doorstop - or simply an ornament - in someone else's home, so offered it on Freecycle.  I was amazed at the level of response it generated.  At the same time, I had spotted the offer of a USB keyboard which would enable me to do certain tasks that my new laptop can't manage and, within a few hours the other day, a profitable 'exchange' was effected, as first the bird was collected and then I drove a few miles across town to pick up the keyboard.

Like all clouds,  the chaos of Tuesday quickly showed its silver lining!