Sales lad won gold medal for indifference

PAV’S PATCH: HAVE you ever noticed that the salesperson who simpers over you as he tries to cajole you into buying something wants nothing to do with you if you later have a problem with the item?

At the end of January, I bought a mobile phone in Manchester which cost me just less than £100. However, recently, it has started to switch itself off for no reason so I took it back to my operator’s Ashton branch. To say that I was met with indifference would be putting it very mildly.

“Best thing you can do is bang it in a padded envelope and send it back to the manufacturer,” said the lad behind the counter, who was, for some reason, sporting a badge bearing the slogan: “happy to help”.

By the same token, I might as well have worn one saying “Olympic gymnastics gold medallist”.

“It’s all on the internet. We could do it for you, but we charge £15 for a courier service because the phones can get lost in the post. But we’re not connected to the system, so you’d need to try one of our other branches.”

Overwhelmed by such commitment to my best interests — although he did scribble my number on a piece of paper, albeit without asking my name — I left the shop and am still pondering my best course of action.

Earlier this year, when I bought a car, I think I stumbled into an organised attempt to get into the “The Guinness Book of Records” for saying the same word the most times in 45 minutes.

Once they found out my name was Mike they couldn’t stop repeating it. It reminded me of my mam’s budgie, Cheeky, who squawked “cheeeeeky boyyy” non-stop.

“Like a drink Mike?” “Want to sit down Mike?” “Chair comfy enough Mike?” The closest thing I’d come to it before, from humans, was in Egypt in 1988 when a camel driver asked me my name and then, in search of a good tip, told me that not only was he called Michael, but the camel was too.

The camel also smoked, or at least he claimed it did when he cadged two cigarettes from my friend Norman.

Another thing I’ve noticed is supermarket code for getting staff to the check-outs. It used to be a cry of “all till-trained staff to the check-outs please”.

But recently I’ve heard “all queue-busters to the check-outs please” and even “would all colleagues with a passion for service please make their way to the check-outs”.

Bit sickly or what?