What passed as English had obviously been tested locally - the Goodness Gracious Me syndrome. It passed for English locally but was nothing like the language the English spoke, Intonations and emphasis were all out of kilter. They had problems understanding us
The next step seems to be that the companies are withdrawing from foreign lands and seek to deal with the troubles here. Not a great gain really where they have language bots that scan messages for clues and then reply as if humans had been involved. I have recently been trying to get information from the support team for one of my iPhone applications. After a myriad selections on the site form, I sent it off. It bounced straight back as undeliverable; the email address was not recognised and suggested I should forward it to the
Assuming one can get in touch, I may have found the answer. I have been getting the run-around from a tailoring firm regarding delivery of a pair of trousers. Fob-off were "We will look into it and get back to you" They didn't but repeated the 'get back' message. I thought I might try another tack: I sent this message.
MicheleI had a proper reply within 3 hours and the goods arrived 3 days later.
I am saddened at not finding any response to my request as was suggested by your email of 22 June. I had hoped that the 21st Century communications suggested by your recent re-locations might offer better contact with the trouser tailor than you seem to be encountering. I can but conclude that the fairies who come into your premises during the hours of darkness and magically fabricate garments for gentlemen's nether regions are in some form of trade dispute?
I appreciate that the working methods of Brunel, one of our finest engineers of large scale structures do not fit well with prompt service but had hoped that the effluxion of time since our first trembling contact way back on 9th May (2010) had advanced things such that my biped-cloaking desire might be almost satisfied such that the trouser gnome could assist with your desire to afford me customer service.
This may seem a lot of fuss - indeed in anything smaller than a 54" waist, one might describe it as a storm in a teacup. I am an aged person and now mainly confined to the boundaries of my humble residence. However, towards the end of July, I have the opportunity to escape and be indulged in a matter of great familial significance where I had planned to appear in the full glory of your finest corduroy. Truly, the cloth of a King. The magnificence and significance of this occasion would be greatly prejudiced were I were forced to display myself in inferior products such as are, I understand, freely available from those who pluck previously fabricated garments from a shelf and have them winging on their way overnight. It was my fear and trepidation at such embarrassment that led me to seek comfort from a simple promise on your part to so manage things that I would have satisfaction within the eight or so weeks ending on 4th July.
I plead with you to search under those many other supplications for service that cover the tea chest employed as "Michele's Desk". There should be something there that occasionally issues bell-like sounds. This may permit you to make contact with the senior elf of the trouser tailoring department and solicit best use of GANTT and PERT in letting me have 100% guarantee of delivery not later than close of normal business on 5th July. I appreciate that typhoon warnings in Hong Kong Harbour may disrupt your use of the bell-noise emitting machine but I would enjoin you to make best use of whatever might be needed to get this poor supplicant the information he desires. Your contact if far off places might need to know the order number RC7446178 or, alternatively have me identified on his collection of rusty nail file-hangers as that 'fat bastard up in Scotland'
So, if you cannot beat them - join them and treat them with some of the bullsh*t they unload on us.