Well, the phone saga is now in Phase 4. We spent yesterday proving to the responsible company that it really was a line fault and not something to do with the handset. And we now await today’s developments, which I strongly suspect will be disappointing.
I read yesterday’s post to my daughter last night. She laughed and pointed out I’d forgotten the microwave she’d bought. I asked what on earth she was planning to put in it. Which prompted her to go out and buy some cat food. We had pizza for dinner. Delivered, of course.
Two interesting conversations here in Headingley yesterday. The first occurred in the street, when I was approached by a young woman - well-dressed but a little too made-up - and things went as follows:-
Excuse me. Do you have a Day Rider?
Sorry?
I need a Day Rider.
I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about [Though I had my suspicions]
I’m a student and I need to buy a bus ticket to get into town. But I don’t have all the money I need.
Do I look like I was born yesterday?
No, it’s true. You can watch me get on the bus, if you like.
So what exactly are you asking for? Money?
I’m not a beggar. I’m a student and I need to get to a lecture.
And I’m the queen of Sheba, as it happens.
No, I’m telling the truth. Do you think I would embarrass myself doing this if I wasn’t?
I don’t know. And I care even less.
[Opening her bag and purse] Look! I haven’t got any money.
So what. Why don’t you push off and find another sucker.
[As she walked away] I’m not a drug addict looking for money or something.
As Hannah took another five minutes or more to come out of the restaurant where she’d just treated me to lunch (she’s not all bad), I had the opportunity to watch the woman work the rest of the street. First a guy in his fifties and then a Muslim woman in a head-scarf. As the latter passed me, I asked him if he’d given her money. “Yes” he said. “How much?” I asked. “Well, I gave her a ten pound note and she gave me seven pounds in change.” So much for her not having the funds for a 2.50 ticket to town and back. Anyway – being young and naïve – Hannah insisted I call the local police and report the incident. Which I dutifully did. But, if they were really interested in doing anything about the con-woman, they did an excellent job of hiding this. Though it must have allowed them to fill in a few dozen forms at least.
The second odd exchange took place in a Lloyds pharmacy outlet:-
I’d like this blood pressure monitor, please. And the separate cuff as well, of course.
OK. That’s 30 pounds plus 3 for the cuff. But there’s a special offer. If you buy two machines, it’s only 20 pounds and the two cuffs come free.
You mean it's 20 pounds each? So 40 for two?
No. It's 20 pounds for two machines and the cuffs.
Sorry? It’s cheaper to buy two machines than one? And you throw in the cuffs for nothing?
Yes. I know it’s crazy but they’ve done it before, with some TENS machines.
Well, they really must want to move the stock.
Now, at this point, I figure there might just be something very wrong with these machines but, as I’ve ‘contracted’ to buy one at 30 quid, my options are to reduce the outlay to 20 or to back out of the purchase completely. So, being still partly British . . . anyone want a BP monitor for 10 quid? Free delivery if you live anywhere near Pontevedra.
Finally . . . My daughter received a letter yesterday from the Chief Executive of the National Health Service, advising that, unless she took the trouble to opt out, all her medical data would go onto a humongous central database and be available to any professional who needed to see it. Now, there’s been a lot of attention recently to the inefficiency of government IT schemes in the UK but the letter made no attempt to deal with concerns around the accuracy and security of the information. Which is perhaps just as well, as the last paragraph read:- “Note: If this letter has been sent inappropriately, please accept my apologies for any inconvenience caused.”
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