A couple of minor annoyances

Two small things which have amused and annoyed me today in equal measure (but had it not have been for the happy mood, they would both have really grated).

1)

Natwest Bank have introduced a gift card. What? I hear you ask? A gift card? What possible use would anyone have for such a thing? What gifts can you buy at Natwest? And the answer is simple. None. There’s no use for this card at all, they are an absolute fucking joke and yet another way for banks like Natwest to fleece people of their hard earned cash. The leaflet says, ‘Give them the perfect present… every time’. If I got given one of these I would be horrified. It’s only marginally better than a Boots gift card. At least with that I can buy functional things like Tampax, or razors to shave my legs.

So let’s examine the card a little. The card can be charged with cash and used as a Visa card in the UK or anywhere abroad where they accept credit cards….so, some might say, the card bears some resemblance to money. The card can be charged with anything from £10 to £250. Halle-fuckin-lujah. The card has many benefits, such as these.

Available in a choice of 4 different colours. And there you were beginning to question the point of the card….shame on you.

The card is ‘an attractive alternative to giving cash’…because we all love more plastic in our wallets, and not wads of notes.

That’s it. I know you must be clamouring to get one, but I must point out, there is a catch. Yes, there is a ‘nominal’ charge of £3 to charge the card.

To surmise. If you’re so f**king lazy that you can’t be arsed to choose a thoughtful present this card might come in helpful, or you could just give them a £10 to buy a CD and save yourself £3 whilst at the same time, sticking two fingers up to Natwest. There, rant over.


2)

Online shopping. I thought the best way to get my mum her wish list for her 60th birthday was some online shopping at Tesco’s who as you know are trying to takeover the world. Mum, being mum, wanted a portable FM radio, so she could lie in bed when she wakes up early and listen to the radio, rather than waking dad up when they are on holiday. And this does make sense. So I found a portable FM radio, paid up (including an extortionate delivery fee of £4.95!) and waited for the hard work to be done on my behalf.

The radio arrived today, and despite being Sony, I fear it was made in 1982. It would only be portable if you fashioned some kind of pulley/winch system and it certainly ain’t handbag friendly. I laughed when I saw it, it’s the least cool thing ever, and even my mum would scoff at it if she saw it. You expect to get newfangled, top-of-the-range stuff from your kids, not old shite like that.

Ok, so I should have looked at the dimensions 22” by 48” might have been a giveaway, but I didn’t, I looked at the picture only. So now I have this stupid retro FM radio with no home. If I choose to return it I’ll have to pay the £4.95 again, which pretty much equates to the value of the feckin thing.

Not one to sulk, I’m going to make the most of a bad situation and keep the retro radio. You never know, when we go sunbathing in Hampstead Heath or are sitting on our roof terrace some tinny tunes with bad crackly reception might be just the ticket. I’m still smiling despite these big companies trying their hardest to make me wince…