Months ago, Mrs Left-Handed Tea Drinker sent me on a mission.
She entrusted me with the task of buying our Little Left-Handed Tea Drinker Nephew a birthday present. I had strict instructions to get a specific item: some generic children’s action toy that was apparently his favourite and from which I was not to deviate.
After a quick Internet search, the only place I could find that sold it was the dreaded John Lewis.
I decided I wasn’t going to go to the actual shop. We all know how well that goes down, but I found that if you buy online you can collect items from a building next door. ‘Click and collect’ seemed like the best option, since by ordering an item online you don’t have to enter the main premises themselves.
I handed the parcel to Mrs LHTD. She opened it and informed me that is was the wrong toy. I was pretty sure that I’d ordered the correct item but I was going to have to go into the shop after all to exchange it for the correct one.
The next day I went into John Lewis and asked the shop assistant where to find this specific action toy, but was informed that that they didn’t sell them in store. The object of my mission was only available to buy online.
I returned the item and then went home to order it again for collection.
The next day I went to ‘click and collect’, less joyously than on the last occasion. I picked up the parcel and returned home. Mrs LHTD opened it and told me it was the wrong one again.
How was this possible? Surely it wasn’t my fault? Mrs LHTD was beginning to get a little antsy about the whole situation, but I assured her I would sort it out.
You can only order the items online but you can’t pick the ones you want. How was I going to get my nephew his favourite one?
Apparently there were only three figures in the set, so surely if I put three in my basket then the good people in the warehouse would give me one of each. I was wrong.
Once again I set off up Broughton Street heading for John Lewis. I went to the click and collect and intended to return the unwanted figures straight away. I opened the parcel and found that the elusive action figure was absent. All three were the same figure. Why would I want two extra of the same one?
But no, it didn’t happen and there was now a bigger problem in the offing. I was beginning to get recognised. The click-and-collect staff were making comments about my excessive purchasing. The John Lewis staff were starting to question why I was returning so many items. Even my bank manager was wondering if I was laundering money with these various transactions and refunds.
This had to stop. So I ordered 20 figures. Still no luck. Then 25. Then 30. I had to get the elusive figure.
By this stage, months had passed. My Left-Handed Tea Drinking Nephew’s birthday and been and gone. Mrs LHTD had got an alternative gift and hadn’t spoken to me since, but I was not going to be defeated. I would get that figure.
I kept on ordering – larger and larger quantities – and then suddenly it arrived. The elusive figure was in my hands.
I phoned my sister to tell her the fantastic news. My nephew would finally be receiving his favourite toy.
‘Oh,’ she said, a little taken aback. ‘He’s not really into that character anymore. Perhaps you could get him one of the other ones?’
‘No,’ I replied.
I took them all back and vowed never to return.
Shortly after this, John Lewis announced that they would now be charging for their click-and-collect service. I may have been responsible for that.
