A while ago I wrote about my frustration of being issued a parking ticket as I’d carefully used the system paying by telephone.
I obviously sent in my appeal email and was told – automatically – there was a long delay as cases were looked at one by one.
This gave me lots of hope that a trainee was working that day and had been issuing tickets willy-nilly and I’d been caught up in that. Perhaps someone on work experience had done the same the week before – lots of happy reasoning.
However, I am sad to report, that wasn’t the case.
I received a rather terse email letting me know that is was completely my fault. I was in the wrong. I made the mistake. See what I did there? I repeated how guilty I was so that you’d get the gist of how horrid the email was. The blame was squarely at my feet. Or fingertips if we’re being pedantic.
That said, I was forgiven this once with a “don’t do it again” because I’d inputted a zero instead of the letter O, or the other way around – I am never sure – in the registration.
There I’d been, delighted that I’d remembered my husband’s car reg number... but I hadn’t, I’d got it wrong anyway.
Surely with all the digital experts out there someone could make a patch?
RingGo could pop something into its system to alert the parking attendant that there’s a car of the same registration, bar one digit, paid up already.
Why can’t RingGo’s system live connect with the DVLA, who are super-efficient, organised online, and can tell you just about everything about a car in the space of two seconds?
If there was a connection made, it’d be like number plate bingo for RingGo, and we’d all be so much happier.
Me for not having to email and explain, the car park owners (Merton council as it eventually turned-out) for not wasting time investigating and writing really horrid emails, and RingGo for not having seething columns written about it because – and this is the truth – I think it’s a deliberate glitch designed to make money.
Spending money abroad is not as great as it used to be
The problem about eating the entire contents of the fridge before going on holiday is that, on the day you set off, you’re left with nothing to make a picnic except for half a bag of wilted spinach which you’re trying to palm off on your neighbours.
And given that we’re spending time in France this summer I definitely wanted to make a picnic for the English side of the journey at least. As, on the other side money will slip through my fingers like despite baguettes and cheese being our staple diet.
Exchange rates are all well and good when you’re getting two of something for your money, but with the pound so low, the biting costs of going abroad are filling no one with joy.
How hard can it be to set up a wifi hotspot connection?
Should I take a wifi hotspot on holiday is the question which occupied my mind for about – oh – 10 seconds before I decided to get on with it and buy one.
Even though I can use my phone for this purpose I’d much rather have something that works without everyone clamouring for my mobile, especially as I still have to work.
Of course the downside is the hot spot instructions which – although not written in Chinese – might as well be for all the good it’s doing my husband, who’s setting it up.
We’ll probably have to resort to asking the teenagers, who’ll put it together in seconds, before the big test of whether it can connect in literally the middle of nowhere.