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IT WASN’T the half-hour drive through traffic that got to me, nor even that they’d told me on the phone to come to that branch; or that, when I got there, it was plain to see, through the all-glass frontage, that the store had been shut for ages, furniture carried away, cobwebs everywhere.
No, it was the sign on the door: “As part of our commitment to excellence and our ongoing determination to serve you better, we have streamlined our operation…” The sign, without irony intended, painstakingly explained that the shutting down of that branch without notice was actually an outstanding form of customer treatment a snivelling little rat like me probably didn’t deserve.Read more
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In case you firetrucking care!
AT FIRST, there were only one or two and I thought little or nothing of dispatching them: field mice thrive in the Bajan canefields and knocking them on the head occasionally is one small responsibility of the country gentleman. As we tamed the wild empty lots around our house, though, reducing the grasshopper invasion from half-a-dozen every night to one or two per month, the mouse population in our “under-the-house” actually, perversely, increased – even though they shared the space with three dogs.Read more