We have a very old fashioned hardware store in our
area. Its one of those shops where you can walk in with a screw out of
something you bought at about the same time as Noah started work on his ark and say
to the man, “Have you got one of these”? He will go out into the back store and
a couple of minutes later will return with exactly what you want. It looks like
the same place that the Two Ronnie’s did their classic Fork ‘Andles routine
inside.
When I went into the launderette yesterday and gave
my duvet in to a harridan of a woman in charge she gave me a firm dressing down
about not expecting them to take things in just like that from people who are
not regulars. I told her that I fully understood that but could I bring it in
the next day? Having won round one, she let out a huge stage sigh and took it
in anyway. We had further words, when she said that it was King size and I said
it was only double and that my husband and I don’t like overhang. She did not
take my word for it but searched all around the edge for the label and ‘Huh-ed’
again having to admit that I spoke the truth. I waved a tenner in front of her
and asked how much it was. She grabbed the money and said “That’ll do” and
walked away. She shouted over her shoulder that I MUST pick it up before 11 am
next day. This woman could easily get a
part in TV’s East Enders. Peggy Mitchell, eat your heart out!
This morning when I went in to collect it at 8.30,
she told me that it had taken a lot of drying …. She had not realised it was
feathers, she said, and asked me for two pounds more. I suppose the logic was that if I can afford a
down filled duvet then I could pay more. I admire a bit of spirit and a woman
who can stand her ground, and I have to say that I found her strangely refreshing
in a world where you are supposed to watch every word in case you upset
somebody.
A few days earlier I had bought summer bedding
plants at the small nursery half a mile away but had had to go to the Garden
centre that claims to be the biggest in the UK for the herb plants I wanted.
Of the jewellers anywhere nearby, we take watches
for new batteries to the (Oh wait here a minute, I have had lessons from the
Gorgon at the launderette), to the bloke who has a shop filled with retro bits
and pieces, ration books, old radios etc. Now he appears to be completely out
of his tree, raving bonkers, totally barkin’ but in a nice amusing way. He will
however, not turn down a job because it’s a bit difficult or give you a hard
time in any way. To prove this point, I took him my husbands sports watch to
put a battery in and whilst he wrote the ticket I gave him a driving licence I
had found at home that was from shortly after WW11. His little face lit up and
he said, “That is so kind, thank you very much indeed”.
I frequently use the couple of small ‘Open all
hours’ corner stores, even though things are a little more expensive. Service
is a dying art. Use them or lose them. Support your local small stores.
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