The TV eejits
Written at 11:16 a.m. on 2005-08-03
Today has begun sparlingly well with a call to the telly eejits. The telly blew up about 3 weeks ago and I thought that since I'd not heard anything about it from the people who took it away I'd give them a ring and see if they'd done anything rash, you know, like fixing the thing. So I ring up and a woman on the other end tells me (in the kind of voice that suggests they are bestowing you with an enormous favour, despite the fact that with their delivery/collection charge it would have been cheaper to fly in Elton John and his entourage to shift the stupid thing which is roughly the size of an aircraft hangar) that the telly will be arriving at our house in 20 minutes. I inform her that, delightful as that is, there isn't anyone there. There's a pause, then she gives an almighty haughty sniff, "Well why, MADAM (maximum emphasis on this) did you make the appointment?" Look you snotty mare, I didn't, I just rang up to see if you were holding the telly to ransom and the note hadn't arrived. "Well MADAM, we can't let it go because your boyfriend, for some reason that I can't understand, didn't want to pay the fee when we removed the television". I can perfectly understand why he didn't, it's bloody extortionate. Keep the sodding telly for all I care, it's far too big for the room anyway, I was never keen on it, it's a man-telly. I'd rather have a little flat screen thing I can put up on the wall. I thought I'd hang up before I started to get sarcastic with the woman who was at this point whittering about having to make the appointment on another day and inconvenience/ inconsideration or some such nonsense. Then I rang M and told him to sort it out, it being his telly, so lord knows if we'll ever see the thing again. Why is it that whenever I ring an electronics store I get someone who has a diploma in surly haughtiness? Or a degree in total stupidity?
