Hoover Repair Shop
In the days before 'puters (so this is cheating but perhaps worth repeating), me and my mates had a small company in Nottingham. Everynow and again someone would sticky their digit in the wrong twirler and expect to get through to the Hoover Repair Shop, but come through to us instead.

On one such occasion I answered "Hello ****" giving out our company name in a 2-bit corporate fashion (a sad and silly name we had & went bust as a result), only to get asked "Is that Hoover?!" by a very impertinent and excitedly squeaky woman.

So I said Yes.

She then explained in tearful angry terms and in great detail, that she had a broken washing machine.

My answer was timed to a tiddle...
"Well" I said, "That's a jolly pity...".

As luck would have it we were all having a tea-break at the time and the cohorts of the company put down their steamy mugs in interest.

I raised the phone so they could hear.

They all could hear the slow puff of frustration on the other end.

"Well what about my Guarantee?" was her high-pitched reply.

My answer was a jobsworth clearing of the throat and then that we,

"Give them out but they're not worth a lot, it's all a bit of a fiddle."

At this point the dear lady became most very irate and said that when her husband got home we'd sure hear about it.

Mugs of tea went everwhere in the background and one lad sat on his biscuits.

Of course we never did hear, as she slammed the phone down in a stream of cussings and involuntary wind. But I've always wondered what happened when Hubby did get back from the Raleigh factory to give the lads at Hoover a piece of his mind.
(we are ovaltine I'm that annoying chap in Building 9, Tue 26 Sep 2006, 20:59, Reply)