Pet loathing

When it comes to 'service', years of encounters with spotty faced, runny nosed, disinterested little grommets with scant product knowledge, no service ethic and an incomprehensible ability to massacre the English language, has taught me to expect little and then prepare to be disappointed.

Generally, this coping strategy has held me in good stead; but there is one thing that irritates me more than a chick wearing stilettos on a white water rafting date. People behind the counter talking on the phone. Especially when it is patently obvious that the phone call being thrown in your face has nothing to do with running the establishment.

When I had the impertinence to enquire as to how far north of the recommended retail price their inordinate mark up had left us in relation to this transaction - I got the same face that mother would give me when I interrupted the elders at the dinner table all those years ago!

A message to all corner store tycoons, rob me or be rude to me. But being both is just taking the Michael!