Dead

Salutations one and all.

I returned from my first holiday in five years refreshed and full of vim and vigour having had thoroughly great time in France with L and the nieces and nephews…more to follow.

On my return I found that my telephone and internet connection had been cut off.  Zut alors!  So I contacted the company only to be told that my direct debit had been returned and they were not able to discuss it with it me.

I spoke to the bank.  Eventually that is.

When I finally did get through  to call centre somewhere in the Indian sub continent I was not in the best of humour.  However I spoke to a very nice sounding lady and having given them my name and security details the converstaion went like this..

“What can I do for you today sir?”

“Well apparently you declined to pay a direct debit to my phone company XXXXX in July could you tell me why?”

“I will just look”

tap tap of a keyboard

“Hello sir, that is right, we declined that and the one in August”

“Why?”

Tap tap tap of the keyboard

“Beacuse you are dead sir”

“Dead!”

“Yes sir you died in May 2007”

“Do I sound dead?” I said rather sarcastically.

“No sir, but to be honest, I have never spoken to a dead man before so I really don’t know what they sound like”  She replied without a hint of humour “Can I ask you one thing before we continue sir?”

“Yes what is it?” I said rather irritably

“Is it true that you have to play harp music all the time?”

“What!”

“Well you see sir, on  cartoons when they die they always get given a harp and I was wondering if it was compulsory.  You see I hate harp music and so I was just wondering if it only applied to Christians and whether Muslims and Hindus get a choice”

For an instant I was silenced.  My rage evapoarted at the charming way this lady had made light of my situation.

“I have to be honest I dont know, would you like me to find out and ring you back?”

“No that’s alright sir, I like a surprise and maybe we should both wait a few more years and meet up on a cloud somewhere.  My name is Mandy” she said in a rather tantalising sexy way.

“That doesn’t sound like a very Indian name” I said

“Ahh yes, well, you see my mother was a big Barry Manalow fan” She said with a degree of resignation in her voice.  “My name has always been a bit of a talking point”

“Yes I can imagine” I said.

“Now then sir, shall we see if we can reincarnate you.  Its very big in this part of the world”

With the same ease with which I was bumped off I was brought back from the dead.  I didn’t ask how come I had been shown as dead as I didn’t want to tempt fate.

Sadly my telephone/internet provider was not quite so quick at reconnecting me to life.

But now I am back from the grave.

5 Responses to “Dead”

  1. And how!!!

    Welcome back darling!!
    I have missed you enormously!

  2. dl says:

    Wow! I’ve been intrigued by reading about your exploits and adventures during the last few weeks, but this one beats ’em all. You’re now part of a very select band, along with JC and Elvis.

    You’re conversation with the Indian callcentre remindd me of a similar one my mother had soon after my father died, a few years back. My mother was trying to sort out his insurance policies: “I’m very sorry, Madam, but we can only discuss this with the policy holder…”

  3. John Humphries says:

    News of your death had been greatly exaggerated. Mind you, I thought you were looking a little dog rough after the last shindig at Johnny Gurkha’s, but I had no idea you were that bad.

  4. Uncle says:

    GB – She really made me chuckle. I was all indignant and read to fight and she disarmed me so easily.

    Minx – I missed you mon amour, but I have had a great rest and wallowed in the joy that is La Belle France. Saw my best mate, had fun with L and the kids and his kids and oh it was just the dogs bollocks. More to follow….

    DL – Probably more like John Stonehouse than JC, although after my holidays I am looking a little like Elvis in his sequinned jump suite, bloated and covered in vomit years. I feel sorry for your mum. People really need a toss pot when dealing with the emotional and administrative pain of a bereavement.

    JH- It was a dodgy papad I tell you and nothing to do with that 6th beer, which seemed like such a gooooood idea at the time.

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