This weekend I took on the mighty force of the retail industry. I am pleased to report that the result was positive. A victory for the little man.

Summer is coming, and now we have a garden, we thought we would get something we can sit outside on and soak up all those British sunshine rays. A trip to Argos beckoned and a table and chair set purchased. Upon arriving home, the said table and chair were unpacked, only to find that somebody had beaten us to it! Half the bloody stuff had been opened by a previous customer! It also appeared whoever had tampered with our table and chairs had already lost or eaten the screws, instruction manual and other bits that come with the set. I don’t want to sound fussy, but those screws and bits are essential for holding the table together. Without them the table would fall apart, not that we would be able to put it together anyway, as the instructions weren’t included!

And breathe!

I am sure that Argos would have been more than happy to exchange the half missing table for one fully equipped with accessories and instructions. However, it weighed a tonne and I for one wasn’t prepared to cart it back all the way back to the store! I picked up the trusty Batphone. I was tempted to ring 999, but thought against it and instead dialled the emergency number on the receipt. A friendly, but unhelpful lady informed me that I would have to return it to the shop. Bollocks to that. It wasn’t my fault Argos had sold us second hand equipment without our knowledge and with missing bits…

And breathe!

Remembering all I learnt from Anne Robinson, while watching Watchdog, during my childhood, I asked to speak to the manager of the Bath branch. After waiting on hold for what seemed like a lifetime, although in reality was probably just three minutes, I spoke to the man in charge, who kindly (and rightly) offered to send somebody to the house to swap the table for a brand spanking new one. It was nice of him and a better offer than the lass on the phone who suggested I pay for a taxi to take the stuff back, and get the fare back in the form of store credit.

The next morning, some bloke from Argos turned up with a replacement table, parasol and chair, which he swapped for the crap one. He was apologetic and asked if there was anything else he could do. Stupidly I missed the opportunity to ask him to assemble to table for me! Doh! Oh well, after about half an hour of crying and swearing at an Allen key, it was built. We can now sit outside in the hot heat. Just a shame it’s pissed it down ever since.