One of the unheralded problems with moving to the US after many years abroad is that I don’t exist as far as credit rating agencies are concerned. I may have 25 years of a perfect credit history in Britain, but in the US that doesn’t mean squat.

That hasn’t mattered since I moved back. Until today.

My wife is flying to London on Sunday to have her long-awaited visa interview at the US consulate. Obviously we hope it goes smoothly, and there’s not reason to think it won’t. I phoned T-Mobile today to arrange for her recently acquired phone to have international roaming.

Guess what? I can’t. Apparently the “plan” I have from T-Mobile (the phone account is in my name since Tracey still doesn’t exist officially in the US, except as a visitor) requires 12 months use before it can be authorized for international roaming. Why? When they did the credit check on me, it came up blank. So I have the same credit rating as an 18-year old getting his first credit card.

“I understand the problem,” I told the calm-voiced T-Mobile agent on the phone. “I’m happy to put a deposit in my account to ensure you have no risk that I’ll run away with my phone in Europe.” No dice. “Can I speak to someone who has the authority to do that?” No. I’ll be able to get international roaming on July 17, 2006, I was not-so-helpfully told.

So T-Mobile doesn’t want me to ring up lucrative international roaming charges. It doesn’t want me to deposit a significant positive balance in my account, on which they can earn interest, to guard against any risk.

I slammed down my phone in anger. Two of my co-colleagues (see Martin Lukes passim) were jolted out of their seats, startled by my behavior. I’m among the calmest persons most people know. But not when I encounter such astonishing corporate stupidity.

T-Mobile is a dumb, dumb company.