DOES this ring true? I’m 48 and for the first time ever have to own up to impotence. In fact, I felt the first twinges about a month ago, fretted over it for a day or so, then let it pass.

But that was a mistake. It came back with a vengeance last week and, for a man, especially someone who prides himself on being decisive and goal-getting, it came as an embarassing shock.

Of course, I’m not talking about sexual impotence here – that took it’s toll back in my teens – but ‘corporate’ impotence.

You see, a month ago I attempted to sign up to BT for broadband.

I chose BT because I’m old-fashioned. I always choose companies that once were households names like British Gas and Royal Mail, even though they now have a myriad competitors, because, naively, I assume they’ll be more reputable.

And that is when my trouble started.

You see, BT doesn’t appear to have any high street outlets, so you can only order via the web. But hey, it’s 2010, and I like to think I can keep my finger on the fibre-optic pulse.

What happened next, however, I could not have dreamt up, because the firm simply makes it impossible to speak to anyone.

Whatever your query or concern, communication with BT’s mothership – which I guess is in India – can only be achieved through your keyboard.

The barriers it puts up to prevent you from being ackowledged by a living, breathing, human are tantamount to something the European Court of Human Rights might want to investigate, since it’s little short of torture.

And this is how it works.

You have a simple question such as: ‘I’ve just applied for a broadband and landline package but there’s something I don’t quite understand’ So you search, reasonably enough, for a helpline number, in order to speak to an advisor and be reassured.

Except that would be too easy wouldn’t it?

Instead, you find yourself invited to enter a cyber version of the Russian doll – you know, the ones that fit inside each other – where BT asks “So you want to find out more about broadband?”, you click ‘yes’, and then page after page pops up asking you more and more inane questions, none of which have anything to do with your query and none offering what you really want which is a REAL, LIVE PERSON offering solace and ASSURANCE.

And that’s when you feel you’re being neutured.

Not physically or chemically, sure, but it still hurts.

Anyway, suffice to say, once BT failed to turn up to install the system, telling me it would be another month before they could call again, I cancelled the contract.

And with luck, the money I save can be put towards Viagra... for my soul.