Showing articles filed in Rants

Hello HIF Team!

Hoping you can help me out. I joined HIF after interacting with your awesome social media peeps on Twitter, who should be given a raise and a voucher for a year's worth people telling them how good looking they are, because they convinced me to sign with you and are great fun to interact with to boot.

I have had some problems since joining though, and they're hard to summarise in 140 characters or less so I'm writing to your complaints department instead.

1) I got the membership pack, (thank you) but no membership card. The pack told me how awesome the card was though, which I guess is almost as good. I rang the call centre about a month ago to ask for my membership card and the helpful rep apologised and promised to send me a membership card. But I wasn't sent a membership card. This makes me a sad panda. A sad panda without a membership card to take to the psychologist when having therapy to deal with the sadness caused by not having a membership card. Kind of an infinite loop you've created there, HIF.

2) When setting up the direct debit to pay you money in exchange for you covering me in the event of me being hospitalised/requiring medical treatment/getting bitten by a zombie I explained that it needed to be deducted fortnightly on a Friday. Somehow it was set up to deduct on a Wednesday, and a fortnight ago was declined because there wasn't any money in there. Mainly because I bought some awesome stuff on eBay. Sure, as a responsible adult I should always have money on my account but as you can see from the picture below, toy Daleks are awesome, and I did ask you nicely to deduct it on a Friday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3) This rejected direct debit cost me a fee. It was only six dollars, but that sucks. I feel like I've given an involuntary tip of three $2 coins to someone who just kneed me in the man parts and ran off giggling. If this was going to be the case, I wish you'd outlined said kneeing of man parts more thoroughly in your signup form so I could have at least braced myself, or put an 'Archie's Pals 'n' Gals' digest down the front of my pants.

4) The above rejection seems to have stopped all direct debits, but nobody told me about this. That's kind of mean of you, don't you think?  I open all my mail from you excitedly in the hope that you've sent me one of these fabled membership cards (I hear they're like unicorns! I love unicorns!) but to date no card and no notification that you seem to have cancelled my direct debit. Is it me? Am I too needy? Am I smothering you..?  It's just that I've never been with a health insurance company before, and I'm not sure how to act. You look really pretty today, HIF.

5) I've set up a regular payment now from my account and paid the missed payment and this fortnight's payment. That's two fortnights, paid. I'm up to date and can safely exit the house again, knowing that if an aeroplane lands on me I'm covered for the ambos scraping bits of me off the underside of a 747 while saying 'this guy appears to have just eaten a Nasi Goreng from NoodleBox'.

6) I received a letter from you on Friday.  It tells me my contribution frequency is monthly, that I'm overdue and that I have to pay you two month's worth of payments by the 11th of October.

This is:

a) More incorrect than any of the Spice Girl's solo attempts.

b) a Tuesday. Which is different from the Wednesday you charged me on, after I asked that you deduct payments on a Friday. 

So if I'm correct, accounts are due on a regularly irregular basis and I should be prepared that you expect payment on ThuWeFriSunaturday every fortmonth. Is that right?

Um.... I know Friday evenings are great for staff drinks and all HIF crew, but you're starting early methinks. It's probably Amiee-Renae in accounts. She looks like a right lush and seems rather pushy so I'm not blaming you, HIF.  But.....I don't pay monthly. I pay fortnightly. Me no wanna be monthly. Ixnay on the onthlymay. 

And I don't owe you two month's worth of payments, totalling a frightening $298.20.  I owe you nothing. Even before I made a payment two days ago, I in no way owed you anything close to that amount. What's the giant bill for? Going on holidays soon are we, HIF? Hmmmm?

So team... owing to the fact that I signed up based on several recommendations and have since received what can fairly be described as HA HA SCREW YOU, SEB YOU BIG DAFT PLONKER I request that you please email me and let me know that:

a) You've set me back to fortnightly payments and that whoever sent the 'you owe two months NOW' letter is told that I said they're horrid and that I think they smell of gherkins.

b) That someone has had their chocolate biscuit rights removed for not setting my payments on the correct weekday and has also been forced to listen to Rebecca Black's anthem 'Friday' on repeat until they've learned the sequence of the days of the week and adjusted my payments to be due Fridays. If this requires an extra pro-rata payment for me to catch up to that day then I'm happy to pay it. Because FRIDAYS. Okay?

c) That you will get me one of these 'ninth wonder of the world' cards. It's like I've been invited to an awesome party but I've been here for two months and nobody has offered me a glass of Pasito or some french onion dip.

(If you can't get me a card I will be forced to make one of my own using crayon, and adapting the tagline 'HIF - we're a little bit crap so far™' and wave it about when visiting hospitals, dentists and Noodle Box.)

I look forward to hearing from you. I check my emails daileekly on a Montuendsay aftermornooning. 

Sincerely, 

Seb Sharp - Member Number XXXXX

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**********UPDATE**********

Not 10 minutes after I contacted HIF via twitter (on a Sunday, as well) the incredible Nikki (HIF's Digital Manager) responded and provided what I would consider the best follow up I could have hoped for. She also has a great sense of humour and took my letter for what it was - a fun way of dealing with a customer complaint. I didn't want to leave, or be a bastard about it, I just wanted to get some help sorting out an issue. This gives HIF massive points in my book. Yay, Nikki - HIF should be so incredibly happy to have you on board. 

"PS - sorry to break it to you but zombie attacks are not covered by your policy.." - Nikki @HIF_Australia

 

**********UPDATE 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO**********

(The equally amazing Val emailed me and assisted with all of my issues, showing that HIF staff really do look after their customers. My response below..)

Hello Val,

Thank you very much for the fantastic follow up, I really appreciate it!

Please find attached a scan of the direct debit form, which I have attached using my rather awesome new scanner. I resisted the temptation to scan my face smiling with appreciation at your helping me resolve this (mainly because the instructions advise against it) but please feel free to picture me grinning happily. If you could picture me with hair that would be great. Have you thought about introducing a policy covering male pattern baldness as well as zombie attacks? I'm um.. asking for a friend. 

Seriously though, I'm now an advocate of HIF purely based on the prompt response and fantastic assistance from both yourself and Awesome Nikki™.  

In response to your email:

Membership Card not received with your Welcome Pack

Thanks for ordering me (another) one. I look forward to waving it in other people's faces while singing 'Don't cha wish your health insurance provider was hot like mine?' , as well as sticky-taping it to my forehead along with some feathers and a cheezel and insisting people call me Lordy GaGa.

Your Direct Debit was not set up to deduct on a Friday

So, I was all 'I'll sign up online', which I did on a Monday. The sign up gives you the option of paying on that day but starting your coverage at a later date, which I thought meant THAT would become the nominated anniversary date for payments. So I looked up my calendar and nominated the day, then submitted. About an hour after submitting it I noticed that I'd chosen it to start on a Thursday so I slapped my forehead with my palm, muttered some swear words and rang the call centre.

I spoke to someone (yes, isn't that helpful, apologies for not having a name) and explained what I'd done and they said they'd fix it up. I then didn't check up on this because Masterchef was quite awesome around that time. I also didn't notice it was deducting on the wrong day until it had failed. I have scolded my Daleks for not alerting me sooner. They responded by exterminating a can of Coke Zero. More fool them - it was my housemate's.

Your automatic Direct Debits ceased following the account rejection

Makes perfect sense. Nothing worse that multiple rejections. I know this based on my experience as a youth at the Merredin annual blue light disco '84-'86.  I don't like to name names of course, but Narelle Kempton was a stuck-up mole. Pretty sure they were just tissues down the front of her A-ha crop-top too. 

You received a bill for two months premiums (and elected to pay fortnightly)

Ahhhhhhh. I see. Fortnightly is best via direct debit. Well, I think fortnightly Fridays is they way to go and then I'll be better able to manage my Dalek buying budget. I mean save for my future. Yeah, that stuff.

And finally the payments I made were on Friday the 7th October, for both the missed payment and that fortnight - you should see them if our calculation of 5 days to process is right. If you need bank statement-type-things let me know. 

 Thanks again for showing that HIF was indeed the right choice for my very first health insurance provider - absolutely everyone I've dealt with has provided top notch service. Thanks again for all of your help.

Seb 

 

 

Hello Bank Of Queensland.

I wanted to share with you a recent customer experience that I hope can assist with staff coaching. Or at the very least make you feel slightly bad about yourselves and create the compulsion to eat your feelings via large quantities of cinnamon donuts and vanilla slices.

I have a loan with you. The interest rate on it is high, and over the term of the loan I will be paying you 1.5 times the initial amount borrowed. I’m fine with that, as this has allowed me to purchase a shiny new iMac and really without that I wouldn’t be able to write grumpy passive aggressive complaint letters to you which I feel would be a great loss to all concerned.

When this loan is paid out, I will have given you two thousand dollars in pure profit. My complaint today specifically relates to the amount of service this hefty sum provides me. 

Currently the dollar amount of service I have received from your (now I’m really stifling a giggle here) “organisation” stands at negative fourteen dollars and has knocked approximately nine days off my life. 

I base this loss of my future time on earth on the assumed damage caused by several blood vessels bursting simultaneously during the course of my interactions with your staff coupled with my diminishing will to live while I try to achieve the most simple of tasks - updating the direct debit details for my loan.

Yes, Bug of Queensland. I want to PAY YOU SOME MONEY AND STUFF. Allow me to explain further before I experience a full stroke and end up shorting out my Bluetooth™ keyboard by involuntarily drooling on it.

Every month my loan is paid automatically. You take it from my bank account. This has, for the past two years created rainbows, kittens, tap dance scholarships for several gifted unicorns and filled me with happiness and joy.

On Monday I changed bank accounts, and like a good little customer contacted the five institutions that I needed to update my direct debit details with.  Three did it over the phone. The fourth needed me to fax the details with a scan of my driver’s licence. Easy and convenient for someone who works during business hours (did you know that people have to work to be able to pay you?  Isn’t that astounding? Australia! What a country!).

With my first four calls going smoothly, it came time to call the Bank of Queenslime. The following conversation took place:

REP: Hello, this is (I’ve didn’t catch the rep’s name, but for the purpose of this let’s call her Gertrude Unhelpful-Smythe) How can I help you?

ME: Hello, my name is Seb, I was wondering if you can help me update some direct debit details for a loan I’m paying with you? I have a re.... (gets cut off)

GERTRUDE: You have to go into a branch.

ME:  Oh, okay. I’m in Perth. Do you have any branches in.... (gets cut off)

GERTRUDE: Yes.

ME: Is there a way that I could fax the…. (gets cut off)

GERTRUDE: (sighs) NO, YOU HAVE TO GO INTO A BRANCH.

ME:  Oh.  I’m wondering though - I work from 7am to 4pm, and I’m worried I….(gets cut off)

GERTRUDE: (in the way you’d speak to someone who just vomited on your lunch) You HAVE to go into a BRANCH.

At this point I was so dazzled by Gertrude’s tone I had to thank her and end the call lest I get all caught up in the moment and ask for her hand in marriage. I’m gay, but she’d totally be worth it. 

I then rang The Borg of Quitesad a second time and got an infinitely more helpful rep who confirmed apologetically that I would indeed have to go into a branch. She helped me locate one close to me. I asked her when it closed. She told me 4pm. I arranged to leave work early to rush to this branch.  I got there at half three. It was closed. It closes at two thirty.

Foiled in my attempts to pay you on time, I looked at your website and found a branch that was open on Saturday.  The closest one to me was 45 minutes drive away, but I needed to make sure you get your monthly payment. Because if you repossessed my iMac I wouldn’t have access to my Bananarama MP3 collection and would therefore have no choice but to promptly find a corner to sit in for the next few months while sobbing/rocking back and forth while humming ‘I Heard A Rumour’ from their hit album ‘WOW’.

So, today being Saturday I set off with several sherpas and began the journey to THE LAND BEYOND THUNDERDOME with a packed lunch of tuna sushi and a small diet orange cordial. After 45 minutes, a Mexican standoff over a parking space and some time dedicated to burying those who had perished on the journey I was finally seated in my “nearest” branch with my neatly typed written request and some photo ID.

The teller who helped me provided fantastic service and is a credit to your organisation. You would do well to send Gertrude over to her in the hopes she learns how to be helpful while suppressing the urge to snarl and spit at your customers.

The only problem was that she couldn’t update my details. She rang for assistance and after several minutes was informed that (uh-oh, here comes the caps lock) I NEEDED TO CALL ON MONDAY TO SPEAK TO SOMEONE WHO WOULD UPDATE MY DETAILS OVER THE PHONE.  She very kindly took my document and scanned my ID and did promise to follow up… but seriously, Bag of Quicksand  – what on earth do you call what you’re doing? Service? Why are you the only organisation that won’t let me organise to keep paying you?  Am I that horrible? What have I done to deserve this? Did I ignore you in high school? Put the empty milk carton back in the fridge? Finance a Ke$ha album?

Thus far, I’ve been insulted by the attitude of your reps, been given incorrect information, lost 90 minutes today and 40 minutes on Monday driving to and from your branches and all of this has been to try and give you six digits followed by eight digits. (Right now, you get a single middle digit).

Indiana Jones went through less to get the Ark of the Covenant. And he got a cool hat and a whip and stuff. All I’m getting from you is aggravation and the privilege of paying you two thousand dollars in interest to be treated like something that dog down the road with the wonky eye barfed up.

So, Bucket of Quagmire. The ball is in your court. I want to pay you. I have the sacred digits required to unlock my monthly payment and will happily give them to anyone in your company who has the ability to enter them into a computer so that rainbows, kittens and tap dancing unicorns can again go about their lives without a care in the world.

I will regard this action as being equal to two thousand dollars of service and will let the 14 dollars in petrol I’ve spent getting to your branches slide. Unless you’d like to credit that to my account.

Bet you don’t though. 

Sincerely,

Seb Sharp

Customer. (kuhs-tuh-mer]

noun

- a person who purchases goods or services from another; buyer; patron.