The Horror of Argos.

You know I always thought Argos was a pretty good shop. On the face of it its a wonderful idea and it should work...everything out of the way and collected for you. No! Its the shop of Satan, designed to frustrate the hell out of you. Its the shop that saps your very will to live and takes all pleasure out of the shopping experience. I mean you start off trying to find if the item you wish to buy is in stock. Invariably it isn't at all, so you choose something just a little more expensive instead. Not good. Today I tried their new innovation, a pay by card option, to cut the queue. What good idea you may think. NO! I typed in the item number and that was fine, 1 in stock, hooray. Put my card in to pay. Card not recognised. Try again: Same response. Bugger , its the queue. I think its a ploy to be honest. In the 20 minutes I was in there 5 other people tried and failed to use this new innovation, so obviously its just designed to make the Argos experience even more dislikeable. If it is for real I shall eat one of Duncan D Driftwood's hats. So I queued. it moved very slowly since even though its a busy time of year there was no more than 3 inept members of staff there to man the tills. They all seemed ill-equipped to deal with the rigours of their jobs too, though the one that served me was a very cute boy who did at least apologise for being @#%$, so I'll forgive him! Then there's the evil bit. The wait while they find your item. Each customer is allocated an order number and you have to sit and wait for your number to be called. A screen colourfully displays all the order numbers waiting to be processed, and a cheerful female voice will call out your number when your item is ready for collection. So you sit there waiting and waiting, watching as numbers 20 ahead of your own get called and collected. Gah! Utterly annoying! About 5 minutes after I sat down my number was called (that's a relatively short wait) and then I had to wait as the other set of inept assistants wondered around looking bewildered, completely disinterested in the fact that you are waiting to get your items. They tried desperately not to look at me or catch my eye just in case they had to do some serving. I escaped in the end, completely worn out and had to get the bus home, such was my strength sapped by shopping in Argos. Its Satan's own shop I tell you.