Service with a smile

Talking about service, my credit card company takes the entire cake. Not to mention names, but the bank is a four-letter acronym (and not the same four-letter word I use every time one of their reps have just put their phone down on me!). There is a fine difference between telemarketing and downright harassment not that these guys would know about anything fine. On one certain day I counted thirty-seven calls from them. "Saar, you want to upgrade to a platinum card?" "Saar, you want an upgrade in credit limit?" One of them even had the cheek to tell me she wanted to listen to my caller tune. The next time I get a call from them, I've decided to go to consumer court, because the harassment continues, even though I've signed up on the HSB -oops, did I let out the bank's name - site for a Do Not Call policy.u00a0u00a0

At the Windsor Manor, the other day, the food came as slow as Goa. But with the exorbitant rates, the lack of smile on the waiter's faces, and decidedly less salubrious surroundings than the Indian Ocean, the hotel pretended like they were doing us a favour allowing us to dine there. Well, this is definitely one customer who's not renewing his Sheraton Card.u00a0u00a0

Sigh! Why can't the sunny bit of Goa rub off on this part of the Mutalik-infested country too?

Error in picture
In Indira Chowdhury's column, 'Bhai' and Bhabha', dated February 16, Homi Bhabha was missing in the photo. The inadvertent error is regretted.
Editor

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