By serendipitous fortune, just before Christmas, the good folk at Tesco reminded me that I had been collecting reward points to the value of a tidy sum. I considered, for about a millisecond, treating friends and relations to generous fare and presents. At the end of this protracted period I spotted that they would double the value of my contribution if I decided to exchange my clubcard point hoard for household electrical goods.
Dear Reader. The sum proffered left me only a few pounds short of the price of the Victorinox of vacuum cleaners, the Dyson BeastMaster. So I scurried along to the online store and booked my next day pick up.
The next day, arriving full of boyish glee, I was slightly saddened to see that the package retrieved from the unloading bay to the service desk looked like it might’ve been dropped by parachute from a passing Hercules transport.
To put it simply my crest fell. And the charming young lady could see the extent to which it had drooped. The excitement of unpacking was definitely going to be lessened by the gaping hole in two sides of the box. She did offer to take it away and start again but I was already half way through cleaning. The plastic object of desire was due home within the hour as far as I was concerned.
I agreed that if it was unscathed, all the parts were in the box, and I could plug it in and test it, I would take it away.
It was fine.
After a few minutes tidying up the dust around the shop online terminal I was happy.
In the meantime, the charming young lady serving me had been on the telephone to dispatches. She handed a very apologetic manager on the other end of the line over to me and he gave me a substantial discount. A discount that just offset the amount extra in cash that I had had to find. When he was off the phone she was further kind enough to give me a further recompense of a decent Christmas gift card from the store. All for being a decent customer.
They paid me to take it away.
Every Little Helps..xxx
ReplyDeleteEvery Little Helps..xxx
ReplyDelete