This morning not long after 9 o’clock the phone rang. Now, as a rule, if the phone rings at that time of day it means that one or more of the grandchildren has succumbed to tonsillitis, toothache or toxic tummy and needs looking after. But no, it was something less time consuming but rather more annoying and time-wasting. A voice said, “This is an important message regarding your claim for compensation for ...”. It didn’t get any further because I put the phone down. The other day it was a young man with an accent suggesting that he was somewhere in the Indian subcontinent, asking for me by name and assuring me that I was talking to Sean, yes really, Sean! He was no more Sean than I am Marie-Antoinette, in fact probably less so.
We have managed to put a block on junk mail coming through the letter box: well almost. We certainly receive a lot less than we used to. Now I want something on my telephone that recognises cold-callers and tells them automatically that I have not made any claim on payment protection insurance, I’m not suing anybody and have not had an accident recently. The number of times I’ve been offered advice on getting compensation for my recent traffic accident, it’s a wonder I’m still alive to tell the tale.
Maybe somebody is just trying to make my fortune but somehow I doubt it. It’s even worse than the updates to computer programmes, intended to “improve” the way things work but in fact just making life more complicated.
And I’ve not even got back onto the subject of reminders about the passage of time. I commented recently on a letter from the tax office. Then I got a reminder to renew my bus pass – not that I’m objecting to my bus pass; I really appreciate travelling around the area for free on buses, trams and local trains.
The final straw though was seeing an advert for a beauty product I regularly use, one of those creams that are supposed to stave off the wrinkles – and this one comes recommended by various organisations like Which Magazine. Anyway, there was the advert in the weekend paper, telling me loud and clear that this cream is ideal for 35 to 45 year olds. I’m too old for it!! How can that be? Ah, well, time start counting backwards from my next birthday until I get back to the right age group.
Final grouse: fashion articles. I try to ignore these but occasionally give in and take a look at them. The latest was all about brightening up your winter wardrobe, combinations of skirts and tops to cheer up the winter grey skies. There were a number of nice outfits but what I want to know is why they have to choose items that cost around £250. Even when the article featured a reasonably-priced skirt from a high street chain it was teamed with a top from a big name designer because the colour match was perfect. Yes, there were a few things from Top Shop and Zara but most of the clothes were from expensive brands. Who really spends over £200 for an outfit to go to work in?
So much for austerity!!
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