Many years ago, when the world was younger, Queen Victoria ruled over the Empire, and a pound was worth a pound, it was hinted to me by my then-beloved (a woman with fantastic tits and a near-insatiable appetite for Pringles and shagging) that there could be a reassessment of our conjugal bits and bobs if I didn't buy a new sofa. Inspired by this, and the Men Behaving Badly episode in which Gary is forced to abandon his sofa, I sallied forth into York, credit card in hand, a-sofa hunting to go.
Thinking that the obvious thing to do was troll over to Habitat, since they had sofas in the window, I thought I'd soon complete the transaction and be seated upon a new sofa by the time the sun went down.
Point at sofa in shop. Tell assistant I like it and I'd like one delivering on Saturday, not too early, as anyone disturbing me before the end of Loose Ends is likely to incur my wrath. (Well, ok, I didn't mention Loose Ends). Assistant goes and plays with computer. Comes back long-faced and suggests that I can't have said sofa for five weeks. I point out that five weeks at a steady 30mph gets you about 25000 miles, or approximately the circumference of the earth, and take my custom elsewhere after buying some rather jolly plates. I also point out that you have the very one at which I'm pointing, there in the shop, and that you can't make dubious claims about the supply chain and since it's slightly used, tell you what, give me free delivery and knock fifty quid off that very sofa and we'll all be happy.
No dice.
Pop into dodgy family-run furniture shop on the Saturday morning and spot something that'll do the job very nicely. (Colour not wonderful, but covers are detachable). "When do you want it?" "Monday lunchtime OK for you?" "Yep, we'll give you a ring about half an hour before we set off to deliver it".
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Thinking that the obvious thing to do was troll over to Habitat, since they had sofas in the window, I thought I'd soon complete the transaction and be seated upon a new sofa by the time the sun went down.
Point at sofa in shop. Tell assistant I like it and I'd like one delivering on Saturday, not too early, as anyone disturbing me before the end of Loose Ends is likely to incur my wrath. (Well, ok, I didn't mention Loose Ends). Assistant goes and plays with computer. Comes back long-faced and suggests that I can't have said sofa for five weeks. I point out that
five weeks at a steady 30mph gets you about 25000 miles, or approximately the circumference of the earth, and take my custom elsewhere after buying
some rather jolly plates. I also point out that you have the very one at which I'm pointing, there in the shop, and that you can't make dubious claims about the supply chain and since it's slightly used, tell you what, give me free delivery and knock fifty quid off that very sofa and we'll all be happy.
No dice.
Pop into dodgy family-run furniture shop on the Saturday morning and spot something that'll do the job very nicely. (Colour not wonderful, but covers are
detachable). "When do you want it?" "Monday lunchtime OK for you?" "Yep, we'll give you a ring about half an hour before we set off to deliver it".
Support small businesses, I say!