Gloomy day

I decided yesterday that it will be a bad day if we are ever to legalise the possession of firearms in England. It's not that I think we'd be as bad as the US. It's that I think we'd be worse. At least the Americans shoot each other in fits of nihilistic rage. We'd do it with a sense of smug self satisfaction, utterly convinced that we'd done the right thing. "Of course I shot her officer - she failed to indicate at the previous roundabout, making me most vexed".

If I had a gun, I doubt I'd make it through 24 hours before opening fire. The amount of tiny, irritating things that might set me off is incalculable. And there is a special place in my brain that spends all day visualising arguments with the tossers and fools who might dare cross me. Should I ever find myself surrounded by the twitching corpses of shoppers who didn't move fast enough, for example, that part of my brain would have already worked out why I had to shoot them and why they deserved it.

So, don't give me a gun, basically. And, just in case I somehow get hold of one anyway, how about we deal with some of the things that make me furious in the first place?

Let's start with this: The signs in Asda that say 'Happy to Help'. Clearly there was some meeting on Asda's Orbital Space Platform, where the mechanoid heads of the corporation decided they needed some snappy new slogans to make people buy more stuff.

"How about 'Please buy more stuff'?" suggested Vasor Killboy the Third, toying idly with his laser pistol.

"Too needy!" rasped Darth Salesburger, spinning round in his massive chair."We need to make them WANT to be in Asda."

"Maybe we could say 'Morrisons is shit'", hissed Snakey Faced Jim, the reptilian head of sales. "Or 'Sainsbury's is run by ugly paedos?'"

"That might work," nodded Killboy, "I've been in Morrisons and it really is shit."

"No..." muttered Salesburger, who had stopped spinning and now looked a bit dizzy. "We need to be positive... to be cheery... to be... happy."

And thus was born 'Happy to Help', Asda's wanky slogan that festoons every part of their shopping experience. Why do I hate it? I'll tell you why. Because of this. The other day I was in Asda, clutching the weekly shop of wine, toys and biscuits, and I was looking for a place to pay.

Most of the aisles were packed with idiots and fools who wrongly believed their shopping to be more important than mine and were thus selfishly getting in my way. But then I spied a till with no-one waiting - a gloriously free aisle with an idle till person sitting, happily doing nothing. Or possibly covertly masturbating. Either way - brilliant! Towards it I scampered.

Of course, like so much in this world, it was a filthy depressing lie. The till person wasn't prepared to serve anyone, not even me. And to prove it they had put a sign at the end of their converyor-belt-thing, and it said this:

'Happy to help... you at another till'.

Reader, words cannot describe the cold fury that filled my soul. Happy to help.. somewhere else? Isn't that just... not happy to help? Isn't that just... go away? Isn't that... a huge evil, stinking lie designed to make me feel better about the fact that you can't be bothered to serve me? You lazy, covertly masturbating bastard?

I'm not sure why, but something about that pointless sign really brought home to me the gap between actuality and reality that characterises almost every encounter I have with a corporate entity. Why couldn't the sign just say 'Sorry - this till is closed'? What's up with that? Or do we have to paint everything with some deceitful venir, to pretend that there is no such thing as a bad experience once you are shopping? I don't mind that you have to cash up occasionally. I do mind you pretending it's just another brilliant experience in your brilliant bloody store.

So I'd like you, reader, to help me. Next time you are in a store and see a sign that says 'Happy to help', I'd like you to pick it up and hold it above your head. And then I'd like you to shout, as loud as you can, "ARE YOU? ARE YOU? ARE YOU? ARE YOU? ARE YOU? ARE YOU? ARE YOU? " Until such a time as the police arrive. Happy to help you to a cell.

What was I saying?

I thnk I need some tea.