Phone rings and I pick up… there is a long pause and im just about to hang up expecting it to be the worst thing in all creation. The recorded PPI phone message. Sadly it’s the second worst thing. A squeaky American woman in a call centre. “hello this is BT is this….(she pauses for a long time then mumbles) leee mumble opticians” “pardon?” “this is BT is this (she mumbles again)” “pardon (I realise she’s trying to say Leightons but cant so she’s mumbling it on purpose)” “this is BT is that (mumble) opticians” “are you trying to say leightions?” “yes” “im calling about the BT” “this isn’t Leightons” “what?” “this isn’t Leightons” “am I calling…(reads out my phone number)” “yes” “well that’s leeetones(she’s already forgotten how to say Leightons” “no that’s me, this shop hasn’t been Leightons for 6 years” “well im calling about the broad band bill for leeton” “ right” she starts again “this is BT calling is this leeton optician?” “no its not anymore” “ well im calling about the broadband on (reads out a phone number)” “well that’s not here that’s another shop but I do work there so I can pass on the message” “well I need to speak to someone about it” “well like I mentioned its not here. that broadband is in a different town and not at a Leightons opticians if you want to give me an invoice number I can pass it on to the accounts people and look into if a check has gone missing in the post (or more likely you have allocated it to the wrong account like you do about 3 times a year)” “well if the bill is not settled in the next few days the account will be shut off and we will start court proceedings…” “im just going to interrupt you there. Now can you tell me the invoice details?” “No because you are not the account holder” “so….” “the service will be terminated..” “is there anything wrong with the account here?” “Here?” “yes here at the shop im actually at the shop you have actuly called” “umm… im calling about the BT broadband account” “yes I know what your calling about, you are calling about an account that is in a different town to the one im in. and you wont tell me any information. Im asking you if there is actually anything wrong with the account HERE!” “im calling from BT ..” (every time I say anything its like she resets to her script) the service will be terminated and proceedings will be brought..” “so your not going to give me any useful information to pass on the accounts department to get this sorted out and it not actually for the broadband account AT THIS PREMASIS, ITS IN A TOTALLY DIFFERENT TOWN” “ this is BT calling” “yeah I know im going now” “well umm han…” I hang up

You know the days not going to go well when it starts like this. Barely get the door of the shop open. When a woman angrily marches in .” I am really upset, my glasses have broken” “(using my customer service skills) ohh no” she rummages around in her bag whist saying “im disappointed” “im shocked” “this is unacceptable” she pulls out the glasses witch are snapped. But I look at them and notice, they are not exactly new…. Probably not even close to a guarantee period. I get out the record…. They where bought about 3 month under 10 years ago. “umm according to this you got them almost 10 years ago” “yes that’s about right” “10 years well that’s pretty….” “im extremely disappointed they haven’t lasted every well at all, this is extremely unacceptable” “well the guarantee on most glasses is a year or maybe 2 years and that covers manufacturing defects no wear and tare and these are almost 10 years old” “what are you saying?” “Well that they are well out of any guarantee and that I cant get a new frame as its not made anymore” “will this is disgraceful….”

New to my shop is a bookies. And there are always people outside smoking and making a mess. So they put up an on the wall ashtray thing (dunno if they have a proper name) but it seems that no one seems to know how to use it as the street is covered in dog ends. Anyhoo this morning theirs also about 6 scratch cards there and some other paper litter. I see the litter-picker-upper man waddling up the street wielding his bin bag and giant pair of tongs. “Ohh good” I think.  He gets to all the litter, nudges the scrachcarts around, picks up a single dog-end as if he was looking for nugget of gold amongst detritus and waddles off leaving (at quick glace) 20 odd dog ends and the scratch cards.