Telstra's lousy service

I stayed at home on Sunday to tidy up some of the stuff I had in my landlady’s shed. To make sure I knew where everything was prior to my moving out. That didn’t take long. While I was busy I was thinking about the car.

The quote I got from Cooma Diesel had been playing on my mind. I’ve been worried about how I was going to cover the cost of the repair to the turbo. There’s only one real solution and that’s to increase my credit card limit. So, I thought I’d give the finance company a call and see what they say. I’d do it straight away rather than waiting until Monday.

I have a prepaid mobile phone. Being well aware of the time you can spend hanging on the telephone line in a queue before someone half way across the world eventually gets to you, and as I did not wish to use up all the credit on my phone on this type of exercise, I thought to myself, find a public telephone. The local shops were only a 20minute walk from where I lived. So off I went to find a public telephone at the shopping centre. It was a nice day for a short jaunt.

Canberra has catered for foot traffic like I have seen no where else. There is a myriad of footpaths crisscrossing Canberra suburbs. As well as the concrete pavement at the side of the street, which in some suburbs in some states, doesn’t actually exist, these pathways can be found at the back of properties linking one suburb to the next, meandering through parks, and with street underpasses to keep you safe from vehicles. The state of some of the concrete paving is showing its age, but I have to give praise to the idea. It’s a simply wonderful planning feature of Canberra.

Anyway, off I trot strolling under the shady trees to the local shops. I found the public telephone without trouble, but was disappointed to find it out of order. These things happen from time to time. Fortunately, I had my trusty street directory in hand and could see another public telephone marked on the map about 3km away. Anyway, it gave me a chance to explore more meandering footpaths, and see a few more suburbs at a rather more sedate pace.

With a drink in hand I set off. After about half an hour of up hill climb I got to the location marked on the map where the telephone box should have been, but strangely could not find the telephone box. At times like these you begin to doubt your own map reading skills. It’s so easy by car to drive up and down the street. Perhaps it was hidden behind a tree. Walking around the block takes a bit longer. I was wondering if the street directory was wrong and the telephone booth might have been in a slightly different place from where it was supposed to be. And then I spotted something.

Exactly at the place on the map where the telephone was indicated, and a little further away from the roadway than where I was standing I spotted a flat square of concrete on the ground. It was partially hidden by long grass. A closer look at this concrete slab revealed it to be, in my estimation, about the dimensions of a public telephone booth, having what looked like bolt holes on each corner. The only problem was that there was no telephone booth on top of the slab. I was wondering if this was the fault of the map maker or whether Telstra has just come along and removed it without telling anyone. I was getting annoyed.

I knew I was relatively close to the neighbouring suburb's shops, but getting further and further from home. Well, shopping centres do have public telephones located at them. So, ignoring the sweat that was beginning to pool in spots under my shirt, I once again set off toward the shops. I rested at the top of the hill and took in the view. The rest of the walk to the shops was downhill, and in half an hour I located the shops and public telephone, only to find it too was out of order. I flopped in a nearby park bench staring at the shuttered windows and boarded up doors of the closed shops, and wondering what sort of lousy dung heap of a city I’m living in, and about the lousy service Telstra is providing. The phone wasn’t vandalised it was just making noises other than having a dial tone and it wouldn’t accept my coins. That was it. Give up. Go home.

My sour mood lightened, when crossing a road near a bus stop but what should happen but a bus comes along, and the very bus that would take me home. I’m beginning to hate Telstra.