Power Lines – Elaine Abery

'I’m trying to help YOU!’ Exasperated, my voice rises.

‘I need your name, address and phone number before I can log your issue.’

‘For crying out loud! I have been on the phone to you for an hour, as you transfer me from one area to another, from one person (or electronic voice) to another. You have my number. It’s been flashing on the screens of you and your colleagues for the past hour!’

‘I cannot help you if you don’t have me your details.’

‘Is there nobody with an iota of logic or common sense in your organisation since you lot privatised?’

‘I am going to have to termite this call unless you give me your details.’

‘FINE. Record this. I certainly am and I will send it to the media if you continue to refuse to act. I am trying to help you. You have a powerline lying across the wet road during a storm. The powerline was hit in two places by lightening as I drove towards it. It arced, fell into the ground, where it is moving around. If you continue to delay and fail to act, and someone is hurt, you are wilfully endangering human life. There are kids playing on the street. I am trying to help you NOT kill someone here and all you are doing is wasting my time and making me regret being a responsible citizen. No wonder nobody wants to help anyone. It’s just too hard. You have made it too bloody hard.’ My voice gets quieter. I am about to hang up.

‘What’s the address?’

I laugh. ‘Chinchin street. Outside Islington Public School.’

‘What number?’

‘I don’t KNOW!’ I guffaw. ‘If your guys can’t see the massive powerlines hanging onto the ground and lying on the pavement and road outside school, heaven help us all! I can’t deal with this insanity any more. I just hope you fix your processors before someone dies from this maladministration.' I hang up.