An open letter to VSO’s letter writing department
Just this minute, I got a lovely email from VSO. It begins as follows:
“Dear Rachael,
Having only recently returned as a volunteer, it can be quite tough ensuring a semblance of a social life on a budget. Gigs go out of the window, dancing is kept to a sober minimum and meeting friends can only be done on a monthly basis. The incredible finale to our 50th Anniversary could hold the key to your partying-on-a-shoestring problems: phenomenal artists, amazing venue, fantastic guests, all for a budget friendly price.”
I am composing a reply:
Dear VSO,
Thank you, once again, for emailing me with this lovely special offer without bothering to find out anything about me first. I understand that you have MANY returned volunteers on your books, and that it must be difficult to communicate in a personalised fashion, but may I suggest that you refrain from making assumptions in your emails? Particularly as you took the trouble to address this to me personally. You know what they say about assumptions – they make and ASS out of U and ME. Ha ha. I always enjoyed that little joke.
I would like to point out the following: It is now almost a year since my stint as a volunteer ended – would you class that as recent? In that time, I have thankfully been able to secure gainful employment, and am not as restricted in my ‘semblance’ of a social life as you might imagine. I have been lucky enough to attend some live music events in the last few months, and have been privileged to enjoy listening to Hot Chip, Bjork, Laura Veirs and Joan as Policewoman, among others, at VERY reasonable prices, and with a fabulous view of the stage on each occasion.
With regards dancing, I do this on a weekly basis at the very least, as I am learning to jive in preparation for my forthcoming marriage. Occasionally – mercy! – I even have a glass of wine during the evening.
I am also slightly confused as to your crieteria for measuring the frequency of meeting friends. I would be interested to see your calculations. In any case, sometimes my friends come down to Bournemouth, where I live, to see me. Sometimes I go to see them. Although I don’t see them as much as I would like, admittedly, this is rather due to a shortage of weekends in the year than an inability to stump up £6 for a Saturday fun fare on the National Express bus service.
I thank you for your offer of solving my shoe-string party budget problems. However, I’m not sure that this offer is all that it seems. For a start, the £15 budget friendly tickets that you mention appear to be tucked away at least 3 miles from the stage at the Royal Albert Hall, which as we all know is a little on the large side. They also appear to be ‘restricted’ viewing seats. Last time I took a restricted view seat at the theatre, I was forced to ‘watch’ Kevin Spacey perform in the Ice Man Cometh from behind a 2 foot wide pillar. It was a less than satisfying experience. All your other tickets appear to begin around the £32 mark.
In addition, as you may be aware, the UK has residents that live outside the Greater London urban sprawl. Yes! I know – those crazy kids! It would take me some considerable time to travel from home, on a school night, to the Albert Hall, the extra expense of accommodation and food, as well as the transport costs, which, once you take into account the astronomical price of petrol in these times, as well as the cost of parking in our glorious capital, will in all likelihood push my budget evening up well over £100. All that, and I will have to rise at 5am in order to make my way through rush hour traffic and make it back to work on the morrow.
I realise that I’m probably being unfair to you, and that I should be thanking you for notifying me of this fabulous opportunity. However, your insistence on making sweeping assumptions about who I am persists in driving me up the wall. There are better ways of approaching people. Please, for your own sake, get a clue.
Many thanks,
Rachie
August 13th, 2008 at 8:29 pm
I am not a returned volunteer and also just got an email offering me tickets
at the bargain price of £15! but not all the other empathetic stuff you had. I would actually love to go but I don’t yet know if i’ll be available.
August 13th, 2008 at 8:31 pm
Rachie,
I was equally annoyed to be sent a letter which starts:
Dear Steve,
We’re rightly excited about the incredible finale to our 50th Anniversary. We’re excited because of the artists we’ve got playing. We’re excited about the amazing venue. But most of all, we’re excited about you, one of our loyal supporters, joining us – hence this personal invite.
I guess I am a loyal supporter – I recently did a presentation for them in Newcastle at a recruitment event. Next Monday I am doing another one in London – this time speaking at length. They are paying my train fair all the way from Newcastle but suggested that if I actually wanted to stay overnight they could only pay £40 towards a hotel room. Okay, okay – I’m paying the extra.
So yes. Loyal supporter. I should be writ large on their records. What should be written in bright red pen is that from September 4th I will be in Cameroon doing another VSO stint. Unless they are suggesting I fly in especially it is all a bit crap.
As wonderful as VSO can be – they are frequently a bit crap. They forgot to book me tickets flying out to Cameroon or sort my paperwork until I gave them a nudge. When they finally got it sorted they sent me an itinerary to say that myself and my (now ex) girlfriend would be flying out of the 4th. We had applied to do a short project together, some time ago, and some how they had mixed up the records and got it into their heads we would both be going out together. They info they sent me were confirmed flight books – I hope they got their money back.
They also forgot to send me the checklist of details I was supposed to finalise so, now with only two weeks to go, I am running around like a blue arsed fly.
They asked me to chase my criminal records check and I found that it had been submitted to them late by VSO who must have held onto it for quite some time. It now appears touch and go whether I’ll be signed off in time.
All in all, it’s a shambles and makes you feel very like we are very un-special individuals. Haven’t given two years of my life to them and being that I am about to give two years more I would expect a great deal better.
While we’re grumbling, when I was fresh from my first VSO I received nothing that they are supposed to send. I was not invited to a RV weekend. After chasing it myself I did sign up for the RV email that is supposed to be crammed.
I received it maybe two or three times before the writer obviously got bored and stopped putting it out. Every time 99.9% of the jobs were in London.
Not one single event (save that recruitment event where I was the star turn) has been held in the North East of England. 90% of events are very tiresomely held in London.
Moaning over. I look forward to moaning instead about the programme office in Cameroon instead.
(hmm looking at that first paragraph in the letter again I actually think they think I am a supporter rather than a volunteer)
You really going to send the letter?
August 14th, 2008 at 8:28 am
Will – it should be great actually. If you go, let me know what it’s like!
Ourman – tch. What a shambles. Nobody’s perfect I suppose, but it does say alot about VSO’s internal commmunication, and the feeble attempts to use a database.
I don’t know about sending the letter. I’m tempted.
August 14th, 2008 at 10:41 am
Go on, send it. I sent something pretty snotty back.
August 15th, 2008 at 8:57 am
I really think you should.
September 30th, 2008 at 2:35 pm
I think you should too – maybe you did already. Still – at least they are concerened about you. I can honestly say that since returning from our time abroad we have had nothing from VSO except requests for donations. Not that we could have gone to any of their events anyway, as ourman said, they don’t like to leave London, can you imagine them making it to Scotland!!