deliveryMy cooker was on its last legs and I was fed up with cakes like a mountain on one side and a pancake on the other! After some online research, I ordered my dream kitchen range, complete with two ovens, a griddle, a wok burner, and more, from a local shop. Hubby John was annoyed and said that he could have got it much cheaper from a bigger supplier. But as usual, I politely listened to him, then I ignored his opinion!

After a couple of weeks, I received a call to say that the kitchen range had arrived, and I was given a choice of days and times. (Big Companies always say the day, but can never promise a time.) Three men turned up right on time. It took them 1 ½ hours to carry it up our front steps, and round all the corners. In the kitchen, they assembled it, wired it up, and took all the packaging away, putting the furniture back in place as they left. Even Hubby John had to admit that it was an excellent service. A big Co would have sent one man with a trolley who couldn’t possibly have carried the cooker up the steps, let alone through the house! So in the long run, it would have cost us more.

I bought a new bed locally, with a luxury headboard and underneath storage. (Hubby John said he’d seen it in a catalogue for half the price.)

After a few days, I was suffering from backache at the base of my spine. Finally, on Monday, after about three weeks, I called the bed Co and told them, not expecting any help at all. After all, it had been my choice of mattress! He said he’d call me back, and he did so, within 10 minutes. He said I could come in and choose another mattress. It would cost me £50 to deliver and collect, plus the difference if I chose a dearer mattress. I chose a firmer one, and Sean and John (I promised to mention their names!) delivered it yesterday, laying it on the bed, wrapping the ‘old’ one in the plastic and taking it away.

Now that’s Service! It wasn’t their responsibility. They’re left with a useless, practically new mattress, and I had a good night’s sleep.

Now the cons.

Local restaurants come and go in our town, like in many others, and pubs change hands or close down. Why? When I go in a pub or a restaurant, it’s to meet friends, to talk about various things. I usually haven’t seen them for a long time. I don’t want waitresses marching up and butting in to our conversation, bellowing, ‘Everything awlriiiiight?’ I’m a grown-up. I can tell them if everything isn’t awlriiiiight! And I certainly don’t want the owner latching on to us, talking endlessly about immigration or what Cameron’s doing wrong. The glazed expression on our faces should be a clue!

Don’t they realise that butting in to someone’s conversation, apart from being very rude, could be ruining a multi-million pound deal that was nearly completed? Sometimes people do have important things to discuss. Or do they just assume we all want to be entertained by them prattling on and on and on and…..