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Tuesday, May 15, 2007THE BATHROOM SCALES TALE OF WOE - THE FINAL CHAPTER: BATTERIES & YES BUTSGrandma is a bugger - she's a Star in so many ways - but she's a bugger, especially when it comes to having The Last Word. Much oooohing & ahhhing was vocalised over the demise of the less-than-a-fortnight old Digitally Electronic Bathroom Scales. The temptation to chuck the bastard things over the balcony was at an all time high. Grandma had kept the packaging 'just in case' & she'd kept the till slip as well. On the bottom of the slip were the words: Goods once purchased cannot be returned. Hhhmmphh! We'll see about that methinks! I phone the local trading store & outline my case, asking that I speak to someone who can help me. My call is transferred to a sales person in 'that department'. "Good morning. I recently bought a set of Digitally Electronic Bathroom Scales & they are malfunctioning. They are not working at all." I state, as clearly & concisely as possible. "Yes?" answers someone non-descript at that moment in time. "Well I need to know if I can return the scales please" I say. "What is it wrong?" asks a now (pictures in my mind) person who wobbles his head. "The Digitally Electronic Bathroom scales I bought DO NOT work" I reply. "Wait, I put you through to electronics department" Before he can press the tit for the electronics extension, I bawl him out: "I don't want the electronics department! I want to speak to someone who knows about these scales!" "Green?" he chirps Green? What the hell is green? Where did he hear green in my request? Are the scales green & if so, what the hell difference does that make? My mind races with the endless possibilities of the word green. "I want to talk to someone who knows about Digitally Electronic Bathroom Scales!" I repeat. I literally stopped myself from shouting Watch My Lips! "Wait" - no please, thank you, kiss my arse........and off he undoubtably wobbled. "Hello, yes, can I help you?" announces a new wobbler, in a not so difficult to understand accent. I repeat my tale of woe. The 2nd wobbler asks if I have the till slip & packaging. I confirm that I do. He instructs me to return the offending item to the store, where it will be changed. * sigh * Enter Grandma. "Do you think the batteries are dead?" "No Flowerpot, they're fine" I say. "Yes but it says in the Instruction Booklet that they must be alkaline batteries" "They are Grandma, trust me, they are" She's not happy! She doubts my word! Off she tootles to the local supermarket & returns 5 minutes later with a new set of batteries. "These ones don't say they're alkaline either, but they're the only ones that are AAA" she chirps. "Grandma, there is NOTHING wrong with the batteries that are in the scales!" I exclaim. "Yes but.................." "OK fine, I'll change the poxy things if it'll keep you happy!" I remove the perfectly fine batteries & replace them with the newly purchased batteries. Nothing happens. Grandma stands on the scales. Dashes dash across the screen & disappear into digital infinity. The Digitally Electronic Scales don't work. They're stuffed. They're knackered. They have died & even Grandma's newly purchased AAA batteries won't bring them back to life. "We'll go across to the shop this afternoon Flowerpot - the man said I can take these back & get another set OK?" "Oh good..............we'll have a walk over when it's not so hot then eh?" "Yep, fine Flowerpot" "Why don't these batteries say alkaline on 'em?" she asks "they could be anything!" "Grandma, I've told you, they really ARE alkaline batteries - trust me!" "Yes but....................." "Grandma - button yer lip!" Exit Grandma. Later that day, we walk across to the local trading store, clutching the malfunctioning scales & till slip. I explain the problem to a thing in an abaya at the customer counter. Three assistants later & I'm directed to another part of the store, located around the corner. Myself, Grandma & the sales assistant gather at a meeting point where Digitally Electronic Scales are housed. Another assistant joins the 1st one. There is much chattering, head wobbling & exchange of TB at close range. (He either had TB or must've smoked at least 80 fags a day). Both assistants unpack our faulty purchase. They wobble it, turn it, put it down, pick it up, put it down again, stand on it, poke it & prod it. It will not work. Assistant No 2 pokes a pen into the small computer chip that is barely visible & the scales awaken, but read something that cannot be deciphered without the knowledge of a genius specialising in Ewok, or something similar. The word 'batteries' is muttered & Assistant No2 scurries off in search of new batteries I assume. He returns & I hear Grandma mutter: "They take alkaline batteries - are those the right ones?" My eyebrows raise & I give her The Look. Assistants 1 & 2 ignore her. Much poking, prodding, shaking & head wobbling followed. Eventually, by unanimous decision, it was finally declared that our recently purchased set of Digitally Electronic Bathroom Scales were definitely faulty. Thank Gawd for that! There were no more of the same model, so we decided to change with another model. Grandma gave them a test drive. Her weight was correct, so we all smiled & agreed that the new model was acceptable. Our batteries were placed into the new scales & everyone was happy - yay! We purchased a few other items - one of which was a milk saucepan. Grandma has been on about a bloody milk saucepan since 1947 I swear. Why she wants one is anybodys guess, because no one in this household boils milk - including her! We must have looked at 20 small saucepans & only one of them had the 'pouring' spout - so she chose that one. I picked up a smaller one & showed it to her. It was minus the pouring spout, but it was - or could be - classified as a milk saucepan. It was cheaper, so the one with the spout got put back on the shelf. We now have a cheap milk saucepan - minus the pouring spout, which no one will use, but Grandma is happy. We then left the store. On the way down the escalator, Grandma turned to face me................ "Are you sure they've put the right batteries in them scales?" she asks. How I resisted to: A) Scream "They're the right f!cking batteries woman!" B) Push her down the escalator C) Do both A & B is utterly beyond me! Somewhere deep within me, I must have the most amazing self control......... Here endeth the Tale of Woe of The Bathroom Scales. It's been enough to make me want to turn me to drink.  
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