Grumpy, Me ?

Another thing I’m finding as I get a little longer in the tooth is my patience, (which let’s be honest has never been my strong point), now wears thin even more quickly.

I think I am now in the official “Grumpy Old” category.

You know when you have to start ticking the box on questionnaires that is age 39 to 49? – Well that’s when it happens. Some of you may think it happens before then, but that’s just your trainee grumpy phase.

Everything annoys the shit out of me these days.

I find myself complaining to supermarket staff because there are no red Apples on the shelf at 8.00am on a Sunday morning. In restaurants, if my soup was tepid before, I would have just put up with it – now, its sent immediately back, no doubt to return at boiling point with a pissed off waiters spit in it.

I automatically assume everyone is out to rip me off, sell me something dodgy or take advantage of me in some great marketing wheeze. I guess that’s life experience for you, because it is in fact probably true.

Telesales calls or door to door salesman are my worst nightmare. I don’t mean to be rude to these people but I just can’t help myself when they always call in the middle of dinner.Their blatant stupid or untrue selling tactics also drive me bananas. I feel I have to challenge these people with some justification that “old people could be taken advantage by them” and somehow I am the defender of the gullible. Energy companies are probably the worst at the moment, closely followed by fitted kitchens or windows and doors.

This is absolutely true and no word of a lie. Some guy in his mid twenties came to my house, knocked on the door and said he was from a Window and Doors company, who were “in the area” and had put in replacement windows for some of our neighbours. I said, we don’t need new windows at the moment, they’re fine. 

To which he replied “but sir, they must be 15 years old now and they’ve stopped making parts for that type you know” I nearly wet myself laughing, apart from the fact that Windows don’t have many parts, they area also wood frames.

Have they stopped growing trees or making glass? I asked. I think he even laughed and said fair enough mate, and went skipping on to the next house.

I also seem to want to write letters of complaint to everyone from my M.P to the Chief Executive of Ford, who received a scathing two pager about the brakes on my Mondeo last year.

However, perhaps this has always been in my genes and not just age related. My mother always tells the story of when I was about thirteen and white socks were all the rage. Mine came out of the wash a bit on the grey side, and I was not happy. I asked her what washing powder she used and proceeded to write to Persil and complain that their advertising was misleading and my socks were nowhere near the dazzling white they promised.

It was only after she saw the letter, she had to admit that it was her fault for washing them in a mixed load. I’m not saying I am pedantic, but from then on I started doing my own washing. Trust no-one I tell you.