David versus Goliath and his whole f*&%@ng family

Even if you don't have any religious beliefs, at some point you would've heard the story of David versus Goliath. If not, then you are clearly a heathen on the fast track to hell. Sies man. But I'm not discriminating. If you really don't know what I'm talking about then to briefly summise:

Young boy named David is sent to fight a great warrior named Goliath
So, kind of like McCauley Culkin in his Home Alone days versus The Undertaker (if you watch wrestling which I absolutely don't by the way)
All the odds are on Goliath to pulverise young David.
But David is armed with courage, a pure heart and a slingshot.
He takes careful aim and hits Goliath on the forehead and it's game over
The underlying moral of the story - sometimes the little guy can stick it to the big guys and walk away with heads held high. Or that in some cases it pays to throw rocks at other people. A message clearly still taken to heart today in this country.

Why the Sunday school lesson? I can't quite remember what I was going to rant about this morning. Oh yes, here goes.

This past weekend I was inspired by three great achievements in the world of T20 cricket. First, the Dutchmen gave it all they got and batted England back to the Stone Henge's, I mean Ages. The headline the next day in one of the English dailies was classic. Clogs -1 Clots - 0. Ouchie. Then next up the West Indies took on the mighty Dingoes and thrashed them so viciously that poor Ricky Ponting looked on the verge of tears and about to call his Doppelganger, little Bush for advice.

To make mattes worse, they were sent packing last night by a bunch of guys who drink tea instead of beer to unwind. Yup, the Sri Lankans packed the Dingoes' bags and pretty much dispatched them on Poor Sods Airlines out of the tournament.

In light of all this, I woke up this morning feeling ready to take on the world. The little guy (me) were going to take on the evil, giant corporation (our pay TV service provider) and get matters sorted once and for all. For the last 10 days I've been threatening to call or worse, sabotage a few satellite dishes. But felt that it was worthless and pointless to take on a mighty empire that is the provider of 24 hour cartoons - the ultimate luxury. Given the past weekends sporting achievements though, I felt inspired and that perhaps I was sent a message by the spirit of the late, great David.

I started by phoning the customer service department and got to chat to a very charming automated voice person thingy. He is sweet but didn't understand a bloody word I was saying. Clearly the Dutchman in me befuddled his Henry Higgins trained ear for Queen's English. After hitting the # key repeatedly I eventually got to speak to a real person. Big mistake. This brother was not charming and even worse, he talked back to me. After trying to explain to him that my account couldn't be in arrears because it is automatically deducted from my salary every month, he decided to put me through to their commercial department. What on earth does the commercial department do? I didn't want to run an ad for blood pressure medication. I simply wanted the error message on my TV to go away and stop harassing me for a payment already made. On time. Every month.

Then I got to chat to a woman. Who is befuddled by my dilemma and puts me on hold for 6 minutes. I know because my phone keeps a call log. She eventually returned after having gone to the loo, making a cup of coffee and catching up on last night's Isidingo episode. With a half hearted apology for putting me on hold while she was trying to find somebody who could help me. Eventually she asked me to phone x number. At that point I had a mild stroke and told her that it is the same number I've just called. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PEOPLE DOING!!!! After much debate between her and her colleagues, I was given another number to phone.

This time I got to speak to a very nice lady who immediately knew what I was talking about. But alas, she still didn't know why I kept getting an error message when my account was up to date. She eventually admitted that she didn't know how to fix this problem. I was fine with that, at least she was being honest. She gave me her word that my satellite service wouldn't be disconnected during the Johnny Bravo marathon on tonight. Fabulous. Because in saying that to me, she just made it a sure thing that I won't be able to watch TV tonight. And I was also hoping to catch the 500 richest bitches and their owners on the E Channel.

In conclusion, the little guy takes on the big guys daily. Sometimes they win and rewrite history. I'm sure Erin Brockovich rings a bell. But most of the time you lose. And you won't rewrite history. Nobody will know who you are. But your recorded calls to the customer service centres across this nation will become legendary. Employees will be trained on how to be a better service representative based on the calls of Boermeisie. That in itself is a noble cause and I will keep fighting the good fight.

I'm running out of rocks though.