He Knew Who I Was
To prove the point of the frequently asked question, ‘Do you know who I am?’ Well, just to justify it. My wife and I were in a well respected, well known department store in a town not too far from here just looking around at the furniture on show that she wants me to buy for her even though I protest too much. (We have furniture dear, why do we need new stuff? We don’t need it. I don’t like it etc. etc) Anyway, this man (salesman) comes along with a big smile, ‘May I help you at all? Yes that is a very nice piece of furniture. We sell a lot of (Iwas always taught at school never to use that phrase ‘a lot of’, why I can’t remember) those. Blah, blah.
My first question to him was ‘When does your sale start?’ He very politely told me the rough date of the start of the sale. I continued, ‘Is there any extra off for cash? Or for people who used to work here? Yes folks, this department store is the very same one that I worked in 40 years ago (and I know the mark ups in most of the departments as well) I worked in this store for 8 years during the 1970’s and then left and opened up my own store in another town.
The bit that took me by surprise was that this nice salesman looked at me and asked me ‘Is your name Mr McD?’ Yes , I replied, rather taken aback. (I have never seen this man in my life before) It was quite obvious that this man knew who I was, after 40 years. I felt a bit of pride beaming on my face. Then again. Maybe he knows me because they still talk about me after all this time, but in a bad way, as an example of how not to sell stuff. No, it couldn’t be that, I was a good salesman and I still have the momentoes from the wholesalers to prove it. (5 star dealer award / gold plated presentation knife / dealer of the year award etc etc)(I have them somewhere anyway)
It’s still nice to know that I am remembered after all that time anyway.
Moving on to other things. We were only in that store to look at wallpaper as my wife was thinking of getting our bedroom decorated as we have purchased a new painting. Because of this new painting the whole room needs changed around. Not only are we getting (got) new wallpaper but we are also getting new (ordered) blinds and a new carpet (yet to be looked for). The decorator is up there as I tap away here. (I wonder is he going through my wifes’ knicker drawer) I go to all the effort of saving the money and my wife goes to extreme efforts to spend it. Is that fair? Your comments appreciated.
There is a very good reason that we have a decorator in. I am not allowed to do any of this sort of work anymore. When we moved into this house 9 years ago I did everything in it (except the electrics / plumbing) (I’m scared of electrics and I worry about plumbing)(but i did everything else) I am not allowed to do anything except light housework duties. Suits me in a way. I can write this gack. I can watch my programmes on TV. I can read more. I can sit more. I can....I can....I can get bored quicker.
I think I’ll go upstairs and watch the decorator. Make sure he is doing everything my way...the expert way
Comments gratefully received by clicking on the title bar above
Ta-Rah
Posted :: Wednesday 11/30/2011 8:48:00 AM
No Bones About It
Last night I had the great pleasure (for them) of attending the AGM for Friends of Bangor Abbey. Now, I am not a member of this group but this meeting was of great interest to me. Reason, I hear you all ask. Over the past few months there has been building and renovation work going on at the Bangor Abbey Parish Halls. The exciting thing about these works, apart from us getting a new refurbished extended hall out of it, is that there were bodies found. Not just any old body (well they were old actually) but they were skellingtons. All 28 of them. Bones and bones and more bones. Dem bones Dem bones Dem dry bones etc. There were also shards of pottery and some very interesting pieces of stoneware. Dry your eyes Time Team, you had your chance when you were invited to dig at Bangor Abbey, instead you chose Down Cathredral and found nothing. Rsssp. Anyway, back to the meeting I was attending. The Prof who was in attendance and telling us all about this bone and that stone knew her stuff. She did hint (on more than 1 occasion) that this was a very important site and she would have loved to have had the chance to dig it all up. But the builders had a deadline to meet otherwise they would be penalised for late delivery of our nice new hall.
During the actual AGM of the Friends of Bangor Abbey a plea for help went out to the assemble peeps. There is a small group of people who maintain the Abbey Graveyard. Apparently it is looking AB FAB and well worth a visit. Anyway, the plea went out. They needed a petrol lawnmower that was no longer being used. Nobody came forward, as is usual at these sort of meetings, BUT, BUT. The knight in shining armour sticks his hand in the air and shouts (mumbles is more accurate) that he has a lawnmower lying in his garden shed that they are welcome to. At this news I have to fight out the number of people (2) who came up and thanked me. Is this the Brownie Points needed to get up there when my time comes? We’ll have to wait and see.
I was out last night. I am out tonight. Is this the re-start of my long lost social life. Who knows? This night I am out for bowls. Normally we have our bowls at the Abbey Halls but due to the building work we have been mixing in with another club up the road. When we do move back to our own hall on a Monday I may join this other club as well. That means two nights out playing bowls. Life is so exciting.
The loss of that plonker Frankie Coconut from X Factor is what I call gud news. The great news is that Janet is still in there.
The dinner (what I made earlier today) is ready to go out now that my wife is home from her hard day’s work (my hard day’s work was just as hard as hers, I bet)
So, for those of you who wish to add something to this gack just click on the title above and have your say.
Bye for now
Posted :: Wednesday 11/9/2011 12:13:00 PM
