I have finally lost the will to live. Today- i went along to a usually good motor factors as i needed to change the belts on my car. I was greeted by a take-away sort of chap who resembled a capuchin monkey. He was small and smelt of wee- his name was ramit. Anyway- After trying to explain to the retarded gibbon behind the 'help' desk what i needed, he came back brandishing a large hammer and a wrench. I'm thinking at this point of using the hammer to nail the tw@ to the door. After using my established international language technique of talking loudly to the moron, i managed to get the manager to attend as he was becoming rather frightened that i was going to kill him. I got a belt and was escorted from the premesis saying that i should be more patient. MORE BLOODY PATIENT- is it my fault that i am living in my own bloody country and need someone who understands the local lingo to help when i have a technical question for answering? i think not. I am fed up with dealing with realtime live indian call centres who have no clue about the job they are doing. I think it is time to leave london. I am obviously too impatient! is it just me?