Albert (Einstein) once mentioned that everything is relative. This morning I had something of a lie-in; not waking until 6.30am. One man’s early start is another man’s lie-in.
After brekkie I popped to Asda for various bits and bobs. Amongst the stuff they were flogging this morning was washing up bowls. It was pointed out last weekend that some of the bowls we take camping have seen better days, so I thought I’d get new ones. At the bargain price of three for a fiver, it wasn’t to be sniffed at. However there was a problem. When I came to pay for them at the self-service checkout, the device had a minor humdinger. Its programming couldn’t comprehend anyone buying three washing-up bowls. It flashed up a warning about triplicate item purchase, and flashed the “ask the nice lady” warning. Eight members of staff then ignored me. Eight! – I counted them. As a ninth tried to ignore me I made great show of shouting at her and loudly broadcasting my problems. She politely (but firmly) told me that it wasn’t anything she could deal with: she’s not trusted on the tills. I firmly and noisily (but not politely) told her to go and get someone who was trusted on the tills.
A manager-type came over to find out what all the noise was about. I explained that I quite understand that the machines are fallible, and that not all of the staff are till-worthy. But that it was rather frustrating to be obviously studiously ignored.
Picking up my sack barrow from HomeBase was (in comparison) utterly painless.
Work was much the same as ever, and after work a gaggle of colleagues went into town to the Wetherspoons’s curry night. After a quick diversion for a McFlurry we had a pint and ordered our food. In retrospect a vindaloo was perhaps not the most sensible of choices, but it (eventually) went down well.
There are those that run down Wetherspoons, but I must admit to liking them. They aren’t the most up-market establishments; the food isn’t haute-cuisine, and the service often leaves a lot to be desired. But a curry, dessert, two pints of ale, and change out of a tenner isn’t to be sniffed at….
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