A few weeks ago I wrote a complaint letter to Action Recruitment’s head offices about the treatment I’d received from a certain employee of the Oxford branch. I wrote it mostly to let off steam: I had to defer jury service (for a second time, which was not easy) because Action had put me in a Catch-22 position with regards to claiming loss of earnings during the service. Had it not been deferred then I would likely have been out of work for around five or so weeks.
This morning I received a letter from the Personnel and Training Manager at the Albemarle Street branch. A formal complaints procedure is underway with regards to that blasted woman. It’s not what I was aiming for—I was just glad to let my feelings be known—but it still feels like a vindication of what the stereotypical Brit would consider to be busybodiness.
I don’t know what the point of me writing this is. I feel obvious glee that they’ve taken notice of me, despite my resolve not to have anything further to do with the company. Perhaps they don’t need to start the procedure: they just need to write me to tell me they have done. I’d like to extend it to some sort of universal truth about how you should always complain, but most of the time I don’t think it works. Complaining to bus or train companies is almost always doomed. That’s how the bus and train companies get away with being so awful.