Haircuts and Mobile Phone Hell
Before arriving at the office this morning, I delivered myself to the local barbers in the faint hope that the picture of gorgeousness that cut my hair last time would be there. My hopes were dashed within seconds as an older, decidedly grumpy lady appeared, and gestured towards a chair as one might towards a particularly disgusting dog turd.
She has cut my hair before. I doubt she remembers me. Normally she is full of stories about her children, the weather, or whatever calamity has befallen her disaster of a life recently. Today there was nothingsilence. After wondering what I might start the conversation about for quite some time, I ventured that I was picking up my broken mobile phone later in the morning. Even that turned out to be a mistake.
It turns out this lady was a contender for the world luddite championship. If any device was more advanced than a rubber band, or clockwork mouse, she was going to heap derision upon it, and blame all behaviour by everybody on the relentless march of technology through our lives.
Oh dear.She finished cutting my hair, and I tiptoed away.
I wonder if it would be socially acceptable to put an advert in the newspaper for a happy girl to cut my hair that talks about sunshine and rainbows while doing so?Next stop, the local mobile phone shop, where my mobile had been deposited a week before “to be fixed” (it had suffered some kind of brain altering episode). I wandered in, and the staff wandered off upstairs to find the jiffy bag that matched my paperwork.
While re-assembling my SIM back into the phone to make sure it was indeed fixed, the shop staff member dealing with me started frowning. The back wouldn't go back on the phone. On closer inspection, it had not been re-assembled correctly, and there was now a crack in the casing of the phone.
A twenty minute phone call then took place in front of me with the service engineers. I will admit to stifling laughter as the shop staff had to navigate the automated service desk phone system”press 1 for the weather”, “press 2 for a joke”, “press 3 for your astrology for the day”, and so on (they didn't really say that, but it was still funny).
After apologising twenty times, I was told I would be getting a new(ish) handset in a few days time. They will call meon my broken phone.