In defense of Argos

A short intro

So, SSE (boo!) have decided that in addition to raising our bills by 8%, they will also fiddle with the street lights where I live.  Perhaps to defend their decision for such a hefty rise on already astronomical bills, I’m not sure.  Instead of simply replacing the existing street lighting, they have removed all the old lampposts and put up new ones.  This has not only meant lots of drilling, digging and inadequate filling, but also a lovely ‘new’ streetlight right outside my bedroom window, shining it’s neon hatefulness right into my haven of calm, and creating perpetual dawn.  I haven’t really slept properly since it’s been installed.  I also haven’t been able to rest at all in the daytime because of the never ending jackhammers outside my front door.  It’s fair to say I am not a happy bunny.  But wait, could there be a….hopefully absence of artificial light over the horizon?  There could, and it’s name is Argos!

In praise of Argos

Being a fan of anything that will make me giggle, I know that poor Argos has become the butt of many a comedians joke.  In fact in my home, we laughingly refer to the Argos catalogue as ‘the laminated book of dreams’ (thank you Bill Bailey).  I know that their system is not really like any other, in that you can’t go in and browse and take your items to the checkout, but I’m actually a fan of their format.  In the pre-ebay days of my childhood (otherwise known as the 80’s and 90’s), we had the Argos catalogue.  Instead of shouts of  ‘I’ll just search ebay’ whenever talk cam around to the discussion of a potential purchase, our war cry was indeed ‘I’ll just look in the Argos catalogue’.  With it’s newly printed pages, a brand new Argos catalogue launch was an anticipated event in out household.  We would descend upon the high street as soon as it’s arrival had been announced, lasciviously moistening our fingers at the prospect of discovering the contents within.

Christmas lists to Santa would be based on it’s contents.  Our bedrooms closely resembled the pages of the furniture section (after much glue and swearing from the parents).  Their jewellery hung round the necks of all our matriarchs, leaving no one in doubt that they were indeed ‘Mum’.  In our child minds, there was nothing they could not do!

Of course times have changed.  Everything you could ever wish to own is available on the Internet, and I am glad!  How else could I have organic cocoa nibs in my sweaty paws within 24 hours of finding out that a) they existed and b) I just had to have them!

And so…

And so in my hour of desperation, where did I turn?  To Argos!  They had lovely lovely blackout blinds.  Reasonable priced.  I did not have to sort through a dozen search terms, and then narrow down the colours, sizes etc to find them.  I looked in the book.  I saw they came in 4, 5 or 6 feet, and a variety of gorgeous on trend colours.  The thrill of my potential purchase gave me a feeling of satisfaction; that I had, at least theoretically, got one over on the evil neon light.

Don’t worry – I will be sending a bill to SSE for the blind, and for many hours of sleep lost, but the moral of the story? Argos saved the day!  They are like a doting Uncle; we may not touch base for a while, but they are always there when I need them.

Argos website

Thank you for reading.  Please comment, I love to read them, and will answer all communication x

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