The Reluctant

I was installing a fire alarm when I was given the wrong type of ladder and...........no, hang on a tick, wrong story.
Let's see.....Oh yes, I went to the building society this morning - yes, that's better, that's the one - to be confronted by yet another example of the genius which is the ubiquitous British "manager" - you know, the people to whom we have to pay obscenely high wages or else they will go abroad and take their unique skills with them!!!!!
There I was, waiting patiently in a queue of blue-rinse, "two-rashers-of-bacon-and-have-them-delivered" old bats who seem to make up 99 per cent of the clientele of this particular society when, being a trained observer, I spotted a poster on the wall which was upside down (that is the poster was upside down, not the wall, although I'm not sure how you can tell when a wall is the wrong way up? I mean, it may have been, but that didn't spark my imagination as much as the inverted poster did.) Anyway, inquisitive type that I am, when it was my turn to be served I asked the woman cashier why this one particular poster was upside down when all the others flogging the society's offers were the right way up.
"So that people will ask me why it is the wrong way up," she replied.
"Come again?" I said.
"Well, the thinking is, apparently, that you ask me why it is upside down and I tell you it is to draw your attention to it."
"Wouldn't a poster of a naked woman with big tits also grab my attention?"
"Ah, but the provision of women with big tits is not one of the services we offer."
"What about that woman at the Cashier Number 5 till?"
"Cheeky! No, it is supposed to draw your attention to the loans we offer, as detailed on the poster."
"But I can't read about the loans because the poster is upside down."
"I know, so when you ask why it is upside down I'm supposed to ask if you would like me to tell you about the loans we offer."
"You're bloody kidding me?"
"No. Would you like to know about the loans we offer?"
"I'd rather scrape my retina off with a rusty chisel."
"I know. That's what everyone says - well, not always in those words. Don't ask me. It was some clown's idea at head office. I just obey orders."

The young managerial prospect behind the upside down poster idea receives the Pither Award for Contribution to Business.


Yes, ladies and gentlemen, that is the type of brilliance we are in danger of losing to other countries if we do not pay the fuckwit oilbags who generate it professional footballer-style salaries, with sickening bonuses, company 7 Series BMWs and use of executive lavatories thrown in! Dunno about you, but I kinda feel Britain would not sink below the waves if that particular kind of brain were allowed to go down the drain?

On another tack, the unreadable poster idea is just the latest wheeze dreamed up by this particular building society in an effort to make it less usable.
When I first signed up it was known as The Staffordshire and had a branch in our village.
For a while I thought it was a normal building society and used to pop in from time to time to make deposits or withdrawals. It soon dawned on me, however, that The Staffordshire just hated people having anything to do with it and so began a determined campaign to shake off any customers foolish enough to join. To this end, after about six months, the branch in the village closed down - no explanation, no warning, nothing. Just a waxed message in the window saying "closed". Then, about a fortnight later, it reopened. This time,
however, it went by the name of The Portman. All the women behind the counter had swapped their little green uniforms for little blue ones and we all had to swap our passbooks for ones with similarly updated livery.
All went well again for about two months when, horror of horrors, it closed down again. This time, a message in the window said "Have Moved". Sadly, the message did not carry any addendum with instructions on where to find the new branch.
Fortunately, however, Mrs Pither and I received an anonymous letter tipping us off that the branch was now to be found about a mile away. Sure enough, there it was, in the location given in the
letter. Fellow customers eventually discovered the new location and business was in danger of returning to normal and so.............it closed down again. Yet again there was no warning, nothing. A week passed. Another week passed. Then, just as we were all about to give up and hide our money under our mattresses, it reopened! Da Daaa!! There was, of course, yet another attempt to throw us off the scent. The society had changed its name again. This time it was called The Nationwide - but they couldn't fool us. We knew is was them. They couldn't hide. All the same ladies were behind the counter, even though they had all had make-overs and new uniforms and, once again, we were forced to swap our passbooks for new ones.
That was about six months ago and a new attempt to shake off customers is no doubt about to be unleashed. In the meantime, I have taken to calling the society The Reluctant as that makes life more constant and understandable for me and, I think, more correctly reflects the business's attitude to attracting investors.

The Reluctant shall not go to Grantham - God knows, I have enough trouble trying to find or recognise it as it is - but ridiculous ideas dreamed up by talentless "managers" will be dispatched with all speed.