Why are the simple things in life becoming soooo difficult. I went in to Argos today to order an 11.99 electric fan heater. Firstly I needed ID.
Because I know when I was 15 the one thing I wanted ‘illegally’ was an electric fan heater. I remember the days waiting outside Argos with my mates for someone who looked 18 to come along and asking them to get me an EFH, promising I wouldn’t misuse it. Once we had exchanged goods, my mates and I would leg it down the alley when a police car appeared!
Something that has never happened. Never likely too. So what is the reason for asking for ID?
Finally I was asked if I wanted a receipt. Fair question. Yes please. I was then presented with a computer keyboard. The shop assistant supporting it in mid air. What am I supposed to do here? Argos is complicated enough without me having to put my order through to the backroom myself! She said, your email please. Then, like a 1984 ‘George Orwell’ character I proceeded to type…. Before my brain woke up and rebeled against the ‘Argosian’ regime.
Why do you need my email?
For your receipt. She stated bluntly. Do I not get a normal receipt? Oh yes but this is in case you ‘lose’ your receipt.
I’ve managed to dress myself this morning. I’ve walked into town. I’ve opened an Argos catalogue. Searched for a needle in a haystack AKA the 7 digit Argos code. Completed my own stock check. Tried to guess a few more Argos codes – for fun.
I think I can manage to keep hold of my receipt. I am older than 18, after all.