I See Red, I See Red, I See Red.

There is nothing so dead as a phone with no dial tone.
There is no organization worse to deal with than a phone company. They seem to be the same anywhere in the world, God knows what they must be like to deal with in Russia.
Thursday afternoon I arrive home to a dead phone. Ring Faults on cellphone. After enduring incredibly distorted muzak, I am told it will be sorted by 1p.m. Friday
Friday afternoon I arrive home, dead phone, ring faults and endure another endless selection of incredibly distorted music and am told, "It's fixed".
I point out to them that I am here, they are there, and it is not fixed.
"We will have our technician get right on to it & he will ring you himself, sorry about that etc.etc."
Nothing happens.
Saturday morning, I ring faults and after 11 minutes of kiwi music, recorded underwater on wax cylinders, I am answered, then immediately cut off again.
I dial again. After 9 minutes and just as SplitEnz finish "I See Red.." I get another promise.
Finally a Ute arrives, a nice man climbs a ladder and fiddles with the wires on the pole. In ten minutes the long lost dial tone returns and the computer announces that it has two zillion emails.
When the revolution comes, and we have strung up the lawyers and politicians, I have Telecom next on my list. I intend hunting management with a pitchfork, and some badly recorded Barry Manilow.
Rest Area 300m