I cannot exactly remember whether I mentioned my slight embarrassment when, a week or so back, I visited Vodafone and discussed changing name. At the time we looked at my account and…the manager called over another member of staff with a cheery “I doubt you’ll ever have seen a plan like this before!”
Oh, thanks! Not only am I paying over the odds, but apparently I am to be pitied as some sort of fossil for doing so.
But it was good natured. Even if the woman was sceptical that I actually write about this sort of stuff for a living. And it turned out that I could either get the same level of service as I get now for about a third of what I have been paying or, for slightly less, get a near top of the range android phone, complete with loads more minutes, texts and internet access.
So now I have joined the 3GL age and am consulting with the boy (aged 6) for professional advice on how to get the darn thing working. Apparently – he says – “angry birds” feature prominently in what is needed.
And I changed my name on the phone with the minimum of kicking and screaming. For which, many thanks to Vodafone – and especial thanks to the cheerful, professional and all-round good thing manager (Sam) in their Stamford branch who sorted it out for me.
About a week ago I wandered in and asked about “porting”. This, following an initial encounter with Vodafone, seemed the way to go if I didn’t want to present a deed poll.
That is, silly as it sounds, I (Jane) would set up a new account. Then, the old me would contact voda to say I was happy to “port” my number from my account to hers (maintaining the fiction of us being two separate people.
V would phone old me and ask if I was happy to transfer the number. I’d say yes. Then they’d phone me and ask if I was happy to accept the number. And I, slightly higher-pitched, would say yes again. A bit like a trad wedding ceremony, complete with exchange of (phone) rings.
I explained this, oh so cheekily, to Sam in Stamford, and she said what a load of nonsense. Why didn’t she just change the name over.. . Huh? But.. .
No prob. She checked with head office and so long as I satisfied them as to being me (now) and having some claim to me (then) she’d just change the name. Sorted.
So she did. And now I have a shiny new phone.
And a shiny new name to go with it.
Which leaves just three significant name changes to go: credit card (OK, mortgage, some time, too…but that will work its way out over time); driving license and passport.
And no deed poll.
I think I should open a book on it. I’m pretty confident of sorting the credit card this week. I think I have possibly beaten the DVLA into near submission. Which leaves JUST passport which, cause its not governed by statute, but royal prerogative, might be harder to impress.
(anyone reckon i WON’T picket Buck Palace if they refuse? 🙂 )
Oh…and of course, Charing Cross, should I ever go back there.