Walls of Jericho – Church Mag May

Your call is important to us

Easter Monday bank holiday, Jezebel rang the telephone company on behalf of her aged parent. After going through all the options – if you wish to pay a bill press 1, if you are moving house and wish to provide a final reading press 2, otherwise press 3, if you would like to discuss the weather press 1, if you need to report a leak press 2, if you agree with the chairman’s bonus press 3, to speak to a human press 4 – a recorded message told her the offices were shut for the bank holiday.

I could have told her that before she called.

She did have a point though when suggesting that the office closure message should be at the start of the recorded message, particularly when it’s always an 0870 number that keeps you for ages going through pointless options when only one person is manning (or womanning) the phones anyway.

No wonder our call is important to them, they rake it in making us use expensive phone numbers.

Jezebel went to Tesco’s recently for some essential groceries. On the way out she suggested that I “might want to hoover” while she’s out. Well I don’t know about you, but how did she know what I did or didn’t want. Later the same day, the first that she was able to put some washing out on the line since 2012, she asked did I “want to get the washing in?”

It staggers me that females are said to be better communicators than males. If she wanted me to hoover and to bring the washing in, the best way to obtain my co-operation is to ask me outright to do it, but don’t ever say I might want to do something, because believe me, NO I BLINKIN WELL DON’T.

Later that week, we had yet another snowfall on the Thursday, which had miraculously thawed by the Friday. The ground was dry, so I thought I’d get out in the garden and tackle the last few triffids we hadn’t got around to pruning in the autumn. Although it was dry, it was freezing cold and blowing a gale. Nature in the raw. Man versus Venus fly trap.

Jezebel directed me from the warmth of the living room, pointing to the bushes she wanted trimmed and gesticulating wildly whenever I went near one she wanted left alone. After an hour or so of filling green wheelie bins, there was no jungle left that she allowed me to attack. Unlike Captain Oates, I decided I’d been gone long enough.

Safely back inside, I thanked Jezebel sarcastically for her assistance. “No problem,” she said, “we’re a team.”

I’m Ben Jericho, award winning hack. Have chainsaw, will travel.

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