Off the rails: my Scotrail Dell Hell - Sketch
OK, so Hell might be a big word here. But Scotrail really have no idea about customer service - or the law, for that matter.
It all started with a coffee yesterday morning, on the 9:15 from Edinburgh to Glasgow, Scotrail's elite train service for the hardworking, highly paid, high paying commuter clientèle (most of the passengers qualify in elements one and three only, however). The woman who serves the coffee (Marion) has a fouler mouth than I have heard in most Rangers matches in Ibrox, having earlier threatened to "run over that f... b... from first class" who had, apparently, told her buddy how to do his job (and by the end of this tale you, too, may be in a position to do so, as well).
After getting my change and supping on a coffee that definitely had a lingering taste of curry
I plugged in the iPod and blocked out the nasty world around me.
However, it was when trying to buy lunch in Boots that the kind girl at the counter pointed out that I had been palmed a false £1 coin. "Return it to the place that gave it to you - it's illegal". She was right, of course. I had to find Marion and hope that she would not verbally abuse me.
This morning on the train there was no Marion (I was on an earlier service and can only presume that she was running over some more first class passengers with her trolley). Instead the lovely Jacznica (sic?) informed me first of all that there was nothing wrong with my coin, which by this point had had several shopkeepers embed their nails in its silver, not gold, surface), then that the conductor would have to deal with it. The conductor never did deal with it (too busy boiling kettles for Jacznica's trolley, no doubt) but my 'catering hostess' / trolley dolly came back with a phone number for the Operations Manager at Queen Street station and advised me to walk to the back of the station, the other side from where I need to go, leave through the doors and find the Catering Department, to see if I could get my real pound back.
I saw the Scotrail Manager's Office and reckoned I would try going to the top. But his receptionists did a great job at deflecting this particularly nasty, stingy, scamming client from the Über Railway Manager and, instead, laughed off my claim on the phone to their colleagues in the Catering Department (on the other side of the station) before returning sage-faced to the reception window to inform me that I would, indeed, have to make the 10 minute walk to reclaim my money.
Could I be bothered? By this point I had lost three kilos in persperation and was losing the will to live, too. I ended up doing the unthinkable. I passed on illegal currency to the bloke at Greggs' bakery. Well, I had lost 3 kilos and needed an apple turnover.








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