Pay Up Front And Leave Empty Handed

Yesterday we went to buy the new TV we don’t really need. The details of how this unnecessary item presented itself {excuse puny pun} are blogged and logged here. In basic terms:

  • A few weeks ago we went to buy a modest size new TV for upstairs, because the other one wouldn´t switch on anymore. (Justified)
  • In the shop “one” has to walk past all the BIG TV´s to get to the smaller versions. (Deliberate placement, well done Mr Moneybags)
  • “One” stands in awe and wonderment staring at a 100 inch 4K screen, and almost forget what was on the shopping list. (Wandering brain syndrome) 
  • “I want one like that for downstairs, even though the 36 incher works perfectly.” (Totally unjustified)
  • The wandering thought then justifies itself, no more processing required. (Justifiably unjustified)
  • Too late, it´s turned into a necessity……..

We decided to be sensible about this originally not sensible idea and wait till the New Year sales were on. Dave did the measuring up for a 42 inch screen, no problem. So last week, we went for a peek, and after much deliberation found THE ONE. Except it has a 50 inch screen and wasn´t in the sales, but no matter, drawn in we were.

Came back home, more measuring up, yes that was OK too. I´ve noticed it´s very deceptive when there´s a whole wall of them stacked up on top of each other, and side by side, they all look smaller…   

When we went to actually buy it, I had visions of ending up with one the size of a virtual football pitch. However, we somehow remained faithful to our original choice, THE ONE. The staff must be psychic, an assistant appeared within a millisecond, and we were gently guided towards the computer at the end of the aisle. All dressed up with my passport and various other paperwork, I´ve been through this process before.

Try buying something over a hundred Euros here and it´s like passing through airport security, I remember and learned from the “new laptop” saga several months ago. Oh, and NO I wasn´t paying for THE ONE myself, it was the joint account´s burden, but Dave´s forgotten his pin number…

So there I stood, ready for the Spanish Inquisition.

The assistant checks the stock and there´s only one left — the one that´s on the shelf.

Dave: “Oh, so do you still want that one then?”

Me: “What do you mean do I still? I thought it was a joint decision.”

Assistant: “Now now children, save it for the playground.” “We get a new delivery on Monday. You can pay for it now, we’ll ring you when, and deliver next week sometime. Or come back to the shop if you like.” 

(Oh joy, forget the football pitch, just get it overwith NOW).

So she still awaits the Spanish Inquisition while rummaging through her handbag where everything gets lost and takes ten minutes to find. Why I bought one with three sections, plus a middle zip bit that always collapses is beyond me.

Assistant: “Have you bought anything here before?”

Me: “Yes, a laptop.” (Guilty and charged)

Assistant:Your name?” (Here we go…)

He typed it in and there I was on screen! Shoe size included. No need to faff about with the first line of our address (two numbers plus six Spanish words). No need for the passport. Oh bliss! Never has it been easier to buy an item worth over €1000, that´s not in stock and still won´t be for two days. Well we were told two days, however this is Spain and “translated” it probably means two weeks…

I kid ye not, those TV´s were flying off the shelves, and when I got to the real tills to pay, (that’s the ones with security guards draped all over them). I handed in the reams of paperwork, the girl behind the desk kept the delivery one, and stacked it up on top of about 60 others… So add another two weeks on to the first two…

Everything went smoothly then? Well, we hadn’t got out of the door yet. Any large bags have to be deposited in lockers before going in, and to lock them you use your own four digit code. They always allow us women to take our handbags in though, probably because there’s usually a bank card reluctantly sat inside somewhere, if you can find it…

Anyway, Dave went to get his man bag with nothing but a sweatshirt in it, put the code in and… Nothing, nada, the door wouldn´t open. Several attempts later, he went to the crowd of security guards and informed one of them about the problem.

So a different one, (complete with baton and handcuffs) came over and asked us to step back while he tried the “over-ride code,” obviously it´s a personal thing and we weren´t allowed to observe. Still nothing,, phew it wasn´t our problem. “Uno momento” he says and off he went.

Meantime we´re both stood there joking about the fact that he might resort to the old fashioned way of doing things and come back with a screwdriver and chisel. Blow me down he did! So there we were, tittering like a couple of kids while a myriad of military hardware and tools walked towards us. Screwdriver against the lock, a quick tap with the chisel, and the door fell off.

Grab bag (slowly), flash a cheesy grin, sing “Gracias” and bugger off quick.

On a serious note though, it might be a pain in the ass,, but I´m glad they have such high level security with the power to arrest and detain… So why do we all feel guilty when innocently walking past…?

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