Evil Mothercare

I had to buy a car seat for Bandage very minor, so Mrs Bandage and I sojourned to our local branch of Mothercare, which provides a wide range of such devices. That's why we went there.

Having chosen our preferred model, we asked the assistant who was serving us if we could see if it would fit in our car. A reasonable request, I think you'll agree.

Thankfully, you, the assistant and I are in full concord, and so she led us from the shop to the car park, carrying the seat herself. That was a relief as I had hurt my back playing Travel Twister (TM) (which I shall be marketing soon, it being a version I have invented of the popular game, designed to be played on long car journeys, like Travel Scrabble or Travel Cluedo).

But she didn't take us straightaway. Oh no. First she donned a high-visibility jacket and only then did she led us from the shop.

Why was she wearing a high-visibility jacket? Was it because she did not want the security guards to think she was stealing the car seat? But she was already wearing a Mothercare uniform. The jacket would only be of use if the security guards were visually impaired. But then, which company would take on blind security guards?

No, it was for her own protection in the car park.

Now I do not wish that assistant, nor any employee of Mothercare, harm. Far from it. But why should she get special protection from the vehicles using the car park? We weren't wearing high-visibility jackets. In a way, she was putting us in danger, while ensuring she alone was fully-protected.

In fact, she was putting us in more danger, as any cars which might have hit her would undoubtedly swerve to avoid her, alerted by her highly visible jacket, and hit me instead. A valued customer. Don't make me laugh. I mean, how dare she? How bloody dare she?

It wasn't her fault, of course. Company rules, she said, company rules that preserve a small clique of Mothercare employees and, effectively, kill their customers.

It's health and safety gone mad. And then evil. Mothercare? Mothermaim, more like.

PS It's all gone quiet on the Marathon front. Perhaps I should write Mars a letter and see if they will bring it back.