My Lame, Half-Hearted Search for Justice in Sainsbury's

I was disturbed by events in my local supermarket yesterday. There's a woman I've seen often in there. She's quite elderly, grey-haired, frail, bent over as if with osteoporosis, and also, she's handicapped in some way. If that's the right word. No doubt I will be using the wrong term. Anyway, sometimes you see her in the street, talking loudly to her shopping trolley, and in the supermarket she mumbles, and shuffles around, and stares into space. I'm probably not describing this very well, but if you saw her, you would realise immediately that she's mentally not quite normal.

I was waiting behind her at the kiosk. She had a bag of items she'd just bought, and she was trying to return one of these items. I think it was a small packet of cheese. (I'm a little short-sighted but I don't like to wear my glasses in public because I'm vain.) Probably the cheese was worth about £1.50. But for some reason the staff were giving her a rather hard time. The assistant called over a supervisor and both informed her that she couldn't have a refund if she couldn't produce her receipt.

I thought this was a little hard. The staff in Sainsbury's must have seen her very often, and would know full well that she wasn't the sort of person who was going to be easily able to produce a receipt. (Half the times in my life I've needed to find a receipt, I've been unable to.) They blankly, and quite rudely, refused to refund her £1.50 and sent her on her way. She wandered off looking very old, frail and unhappy.

I wasn't very pleased at their insensitivity. They certainly hadn't been polite to her. Anyway, it might be Sainsbury's policy not to refund for an item if you don't have a receipt, but it's not the law. They might act like it is, but it isn't. It's just their policy. I know this protects them against shoplifting, but I really don't believe this woman is a shoplifter, and no one who regularly saw her shuffling slowly around would either. She had other items she'd paid for. I think they just wanted rid of her because she was annoying them with her loud voice, and staring into space.

I did ask the assistant why she'd refused the refund but she didn't want to answer. I thought I'd like to take it further but you know, sometimes things seem like a lot of trouble. So I left the shop, feeling quite grumpy about it all.

About fifty yards down the road I realised I'd left my gloves in the shop. (It wasn't that cold outside, but my hands are often cold anyway, no doubt due to my frozen heart) So I went back, retrieved my gloves and then, still angry, asked to see the manager so I could complain. You will note I only did this because I had to return to the shop. I did say it was a lame and half-hearted attempt at justice.

The duty manager arrived, a much older man. I complained to him. He was quite insistent that assistants were trained not to refund for an item without the receipt. Which, he said, was OK, because if there was a real problem, the shopper could ask to see a manager, and the manager would sort it out. But this, as I pointed out, was part of the problem. This frail, elderly, handicapped woman was quite obviously not capable of demanding to see a manger. She'd just shuffled off, looking disappointed and unhappy.

I told him I wasn't pleased at the way I'd seen her spoken to, which had been, I thought, rude and unhelpful. I really didn't see why a massive store like Sainsbury's couldn't just give her the £1.50 back and be done with it. He seemed moderately sympathetic, and said in the case of someone who was obviously frail - his word - they would normally use more sensitivity. He said he'd speak to the assistant and supervisor involved. I left the shop, feeling slightly better. And with my gloves.

I expect the total result of this will be nothing, except that all the assistants in this shop, which I visit most days, will now dislike me for complaining, and point me out as a trouble-maker. Ho Hum. Normally I'm sympathetic to shop assistants. It probably wears you out having to deal with customers all day, many of whom are no doubt rude and annoying. Still, I really didn't like the way they just brusquely dismissed this old handicapped woman's request.

Write something in your blog again. Well all right.

The blog has suffered recently, there's no two ways about it. Partly this is because I've been writing books - slowly - but mainly I've been playing Skyrim. You'll be thrilled to know that my mighty warrior is now capable of beating every enemy encountered, including some very fierce dragons. As a means of avoiding reality, Skyrim is really excellent. So good in fact that I haven't even got round to playing Final Fantasy XIII-2 yet, and I'm really keen to play that.

My only other activity of note has been reading all five issues of Star Magazine - Foxy Entertainment for 1973. This publication being more proof - as if any were needed - of the stupendous greatness of the 70s. It ran for only five issues before being cancelled due to its unbridled enthusiasm for the Hollywood teenage groupie scene. Apparently this didn't go down well with everyone.

Star manages to use the word Foxy four times on the cover, topping it off with Superfox. It's quality journalism. There are interviews with Marc Bolan. And adverts for portable handbag-sized 45rpm record players. So I have been reading this quite enthusiastically, in between long sessions at my playstation.

All five issues of Star Magazine are online at http://www.star1973.com/

And talking of Hollywood, progress continues to be made with the Lonely Werewolf Girl film option. Slow progress, but things are still moving.

The Rezillos - Johnny Rotten - Gary Glitter

On this day, 20th December, 1980, I went to see Gary Glitter play at the Rainbow Theatre in Finsbury Park, London. Gary Glitter was then making a successful comeback. He'd faded after his halcyon glam rock days, but a few years later, his young glam fans were punk rockers, and he was popular again.

As far as I remember, the Gary Glitter show was very entertaining. He certainly got a good reception. (Gary Glitter's later crimes and troubles are very well documented and you can read about them in plenty of places so I'm not going to add anything.) However my most striking memory of the night - as I'm sure I've written about already - but what is a little repetition between friends - is of seeing Sex Pistols singer Johnny Rotten, or John Lyden as he later became, in the audience. As Johnny Rotten walked down the aisle he was grabbed in a loving embrace by an absolutely massive skinhead in a sheepskin coat. The enormous skinhead held him in a star-struck, lover's embrace while the Sex Pistol stood there, unable to move for some time, looking slightly embarrassed in the grasp of his adoring fan.

The support band on the night were the Revillos, from Edinburgh. I was a fan of theirs, and a fan of their earlier incarnation, the Rezillos. I saw the Rezillos at the Vortex Club in 1977 and they were very entertaining. They weren't exactly a punk band but they fitted in well at the time.

I think I went to that gig on my own, which I did used to do, on occasion, in those days. That was OK, though no doubt I'd have preferred to have some girlfriend to have gone with.

The Vortex was a small club. At some point a member of the audience threw a pint of beer over the band. They stopped playing while the singer, Eugene Reynolds, berated the audience, on safety grounds. That was reasonable enough, as the tiny stage was covered in a jumble of electrical leads.

A few years later, supporting Gary Glitter, the Revillos were really good, but right before they were due to play their encore there was a bomb scare. Everyone had to troop out of the venue and hang around in the cold street outside for ages. We were let back in eventually but I don't think the Revillos got to play their encore, which was a shame for them, as they'd deserved it.

Four New Buffy Comics

Two Buffy the Vampire Slayer comics and two Faith and Angel comics to be precise. It's the new season nine, still overseen by Joss Whedon. I get these on subscription from Reed Comics, who do very good service for me in Buffy comics.

I'm unable to resist buying any new Buffy the Vampire Slayer produce, though I did say that I didn't love the last season of comics. I've never really enjoyed having hundreds of slayers running around, in a global organisation. It's a long way from the intimacy of Sunnydale. And I didn't like what happened to Giles. That episode didn't seem momentous enough, given what Giles means to the world of Buffy.

Still, Joss Whedon's Buffy remains a brilliant creation so I hope I like this series more than the last. I may even put on my Sunnydale High School t-shirt to read them. In fact I definitely will.

--

Current Millar books under film option - Lonely Werewolf Girl, Suzy, Led Zeppelin and Me, Dreams of Sex and Stage Diving. And soon, probably, The Good Fairies of New York, again.

I have sold plenty of film options in the past. No one has succeeded in making a film. Perhaps someone will manage this time. I'll send out positive thoughts while reading my Buffy comics.

The 1970s - Golden Age of Sex

I was shuffling round the kitchen yesterday, making tea, and someone on the radio was talking about some new spy programme which is set in the 70s. And he had the nerve to say how bad the 70s were!

I was outraged. Because of course, not only did the 70s have the greatest music, from Led Zeppelin-led rock through prog, glam, punk and disco, the 70s were the golden age of sex.

People do like to imagine that the current time is the time when there is most sex happening but really, the 70s was the period when there was the most rampant sexual freedom in Britain.

There were various reasons for this. One, the free love ethic of the 60s finally arrived. There is an illusion about free love and so on happening in the 60s, but in reality, this only applied to a small group of people - the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and maybe a few hip writers. The rest of the country weren't really indulging in sex, drugs and rock and roll. It took them a while to catch up. But as the 70s rolled along, the rest of the country did catch up. Everyone decided that the long, long period of post-war morality had finally disappeared, and it was time to start fucking. People looked at Marc Bolan or Debbie Harry on TV, and thought, well what's the point in not having lots of sex? It makes no sense. So the idea of jumping into bed with people at every opportunity spread from a select few in London to almost everyone.

Next reason. No one in the 70s worried about catching any sort of sexually transmitted disease. Aids was unknown. Gonorrhoea and syphilis were vaguely remembered, but dismissed as easily curable with antibiotics. And in fact, I never encountered either of these diseases. As for other things, like herpes, no one had heard of them, or worried about them at all.

Also, all women were on the pill. This seemed universal at the time. No one used condoms. Condoms were regarded as a strange, old-fashioned sort of thing. It was entirely normal to sleep with someone and not even discuss contraception, because it was generally assumed that all women were using contraceptive pills.

So with no diseases and no pregnancy worries, and sexual freedom finally arriving, it was really a splendid time for shagging. No diseases, no condoms, no worries. There really was a lot of sex in the 70s. (As a side issue, everyone in Britain in the 70s was pleasantly thin. Really, there was a startling difference in body shapes between the 70s and today.)

Naturally, the handsome and virile young Millar was heavily in demand. Well I would have been had I not been practically crippled by overwhelming shyness as a youth. But I am not going to dwell on that, preferring to remember the 1970s as the golden age of fucking.

T-Shirts Flooding Through the Mail

My minor obsession with manga and anime t-shirts continues. Two arrived this week and I have more on the way. Rather than fighting the obsession I'm just going along with it. I've found in the past that when I develop some minor obsession, I often get good writing inspiration as a result. Lonely Werewolf Girl, The Good Fairies of New York, Suzy Led Zeppelin and Me, and Dreams of Sex and Stage Diving all had their origins, in some way or other, in things I became obsessed with for a time. So it's quite possible that these t-shirts will eventually lead to something worthwhile.

K-On t-shirt

The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya t-shirt

Avatar: The Last Airbender

I just watched the film The Last Airbender on TV. I think the film came out in 2010. It was badly reviewed everywhere so I wasn't expecting much. Which is just as well, it wasn't very good.

It's a pity. The film was based on Avatar: The Last Airbender which was a really great cartoon, one of my favourites. I watched it on Nickelodeon, all three seasons, something like 60 episodes.

I remember the first time I saw it. I was just flicking through TV stations and the cartoon immediately caught my attention. As it turned out, I'd stumbled onto an all-day Avatar marathon on Nickelodeon so I abandoned all other plans for the day and watched every episode they showed, rushing into the kitchen during the adverts to make tea and biscuits.

After that I followed the show relentlessly, catching up with the episodes I'd missed and watching all the new ones. There were many times, when watching Avatar: The Last Airbender that I'd find myself amazed at something that had just happened, and I'd think 'This is such a good cartoon.'

It was like a mixture of an Anime and an American cartoon and, it was full of good characters, all using their elemental powers for fighting, and traveling between adventures on a flying-bison. I was sad when it all came to an end at the end of the third season, and still sort of hope they might make some more.

So the film was a big disappointment. The cartoon was set in a fictional world that was mostly Asian, and the characters were basically Asian. Avatar Aang was like a young Chinese monk. However in the film, all the main young characters were played by white actors. It was very strange. This caused a lot of adverse comment when the film came out, I can see why. Plenty of people loved these characters as they were, and for the film studio to suddenly make them not Asian but white, seemed weird, and maybe racist as well.

I watched the film thinking 'Who the hell are these characters meant to be? I want to see them like they were in the cartoon' (There was one Asian actor as a main character. Unfortunately, he didn't seem right for his part either.)

This was only one of many problems. There were great characters in the cartoon but they didn't come across as great in the film. The dialogue was hopeless. And it was all so rushed. The film covered the first series of the cartoon, which was twenty episodes, but they crammed it all into 90 minutes. It was all a great disappointment. (I notice the film got awarded some Golden Raspberry awards for being the worst film of the year. To be fair, I'm not sure it was quite that bad. It was bad, but there were some reasonable action sequences and parts of it looked good.)

I saw it on TV so I don't know how the 3-D was. But I'm not interested in 3-D, and hope I never have to watch it.

There were another two series in the cartoon, so I suppose if the film had been a success there would have been two more films, but it doesn't seem like they will happen now. In a way this is a shame, because the film, being based on the first series of the cartoon, didn't even have some of the best characters, who arrive later. Toph, for instance, a young earth-bender. And Princess Azula, who is a really great villain. And is also one of the many cartoon females I fined myself strangely attracted to.

Well, I still recommend the cartoon anyway, it was great. I don't know if its still shown anywhere but if you come across it you should definitely watch it.

Japan World Cup / Intruder Alert

I very much enjoyed watching the women's world cup final between Japan and the USA. It was a really good game, played at a high standard. I didn't mind who won, as both teams were good. It was exciting right to the end, when Japan were the victors in a penalty shoot-out.

I toasted Japan's victory with some warm sake. Well, I was going to drink that anyway. But I pretended it was a toast. I've been able to buy sake more easily recently, as my local supermarket has started stocking it, so I don't have to shop online anymore, and wait for it to be delivered.

About 10.45 pm, not long after the game finished, I had an extremely alarming experience. Someone put a key in my front door and tried to open it! Actually, alarming doesn't quite cover it. I headed towards the front door, shouting loudly and attempting to sound fierce. This had no effect, and the unknown intruder kept trying to open my front door with a key

So I threw open the door, ready to fight for my life. OK, that's not quite accurate. I opened the door with the burglar chain still in place. But if the intruder had broken through that, I was definitely ready to fight for my life.

The intruder turned out to be a young man I recognised, from the next section of this block, so hopelessly drunk that he'd wandered into the wrong entrance. He was fumbling to open what he thought was his own front door. He looked at me quite cheerfully and smiled when I told him he had the wrong flat. Then he shook my hand before stumbling off.

So that was alarming. But for a drunk person, it was quite an easy mistake. There are various entrances to all the flats in this long block, and they all look exactly the same. I have on one occasion found myself wandering into the wrong entrance, though I did realise my mistake before I tried to open someone else's front door.

Afterwards I drank more sake and returned to watching The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, one of many anime I'm watching at the moment.