My nightmare in the 'Live Chat' room | BBC Radio Solent's Alun Newman

It’s a job I loathe but having worked in the insurance sector I feel duty bound to refresh them each year, even if nothing happens other than the fact that I get older, which in-turn makes me less 'risky'.

The premium always seems to go up every year by at least one hundred quid.

I reckon that if I hadn’t ever changed insurers then it would be costing me about half a million pounds a year to cover an 11-year-old Mini.

There’s a new rule coming in this year which means that insurance companies can’t just crank up your premium for no reason. It has to be explained to you.

This can only be a good thing in my book. Unless of course the reason it has increased is you’ve got points or a speeding violation. No-one wants to be reminded of that.

Anyway, this preamble leads me to the first blunder of the year.

I’ve taken out an insurance policy with a company that uses ‘Live Chat’ online. There are no call centres and no-one to speak to.

It won’t surprise you to hear that the cover was not quite correct. It was not what I had purchased.

Don’t worry I’ll just ‘Live Chat’ the problem and get this sorted, I thought. They’ve got four-and-a-half stars on the trust rating. Well not from me.

The ‘chat’ highlights the complexity of getting irritated but only giving you enough space for the few words that can express it. Then there’s the pause. Then you see that the other person is typing. And then there's… nothing.

Then their response.

Now, I’m not a gifted typer. I’m not able to look at the screen and type. I am the person who looks up and sees that the entire last paragraph has been written with the ‘caps lock’ key on.

As the ping-pong ‘Live Chat’ continues I start to imagine that the operator on the other side is taking it ultra slowly on purpose.

Perhaps they’re showing their mates what I’ve written and are all having a laugh.

Then I imagine that they’ve got a load of losers like me online and they’re having multiple conversations, reassuring other mugs that they’re ‘looking into it as a matter of urgency’.

It is obvious to me that this is a classic case of ‘looks good on paper’. What a great idea. Keep costs down.

The ‘Live Chat’ is available 24 hours a day which is incredibly useful if you wake up in the middle of the night and want to be irritated out of your mind.

It should be called ‘Live 24-hour frustration service’.

The beauty of speech is that it has the complexity of tone. It allows both parties to pick up on the nuances of frustration. It is a skill honed over thousands of years.

In my view to be listened to and to listen are the key qualities of good customer service.

But back to that chat room… it’s not until you’ve fallen for the worm of a few quid saved that you realise you’ve been hooked and there’s no easy way out of it.

I played with the idea of cancelling but knew I’d be ‘Live Chatting’ for the rest of my life to try to get my money back.

I considered stopping the direct debit and heaven knows what else, but I now consider myself burned.

The first lesson of 2021 had been delivered with precision and that is that being able to talk to someone is important.

Human beings having a proper conversation actually works.

People get each other and even if they don't, having an argument over the internet via chat-boxes is as unsatisfying as dark chocolate, low fat custard and soya... when you thought it was chicken.

No empty promises from me

I don’t make new year's resolutions which in itself could be construed as a new year's resolution I suppose.

I gave up many years ago when I realised I had no intention of keeping them. They always seemed to involve some health pledge and the banning of certain foods. The Del Boy promise that this time next year I’d have abs you could grate cheese on and be driving a Bentley.

I’ll stick to what I know. I’ll continue eating cheese and watching YouTube videos showing me Bentleys. However, I like the idea of expecting a bit more from myself. I just don’t like the idea that it has to start in January. It’s the month that never ends. It’s the one month that seems to contain about 10 weeks and payday comes on week 11.

I like to see January as the warm-up. It’s the prawn cocktail of months, the stretch before you go on the marathon. It’s the FFFuLa La La before the opera singer sings.

If I was given global power I’d kick the year off with February, a far better month. January seems a little bit too much. The rest of my family indulge in new year resolutions. I listen to claims of fitter, cleverer, hamster cage cleaners. Promises that sound so easy while eating chocolates on the sofa while watching someone make chocolates on the telly. I like to promise myself that I’ll say yes whenever I can even if it pushes me out of the comfort zone. I’ll switch between mature and extra mature Cheddar and stay resolutely committed to no new year's resolutions.