The Wrong Shirt

Ah, at last!  Someone human!  I’ve been given the run-around by your automated assistant thing for the past half hour.  I’ve clicked I don’t know how many pictures of traffic lights to prove I’m not a bloody robot.

I understand your frustration.  How may I help?

I just need to return a shirt, that’s all.

I see.  May I ask why?  Did you order the wrong size?

No, no!  The size is fine.  Well, I imagine it is.  I haven’t tried it.  It’s still in the packet.  No, it’s the wrong colour.

I see… You ordered the sky blue.

Yes, I did.  But this one isn’t sky blue.  It’s more of an indigo, leaning towards purple.

What does it say on the packet?

It says ‘sky blue’ but –

There you are, then.  May I close this query as ‘satisfied’?

What?  No, wait!  It says ‘sky blue’ on the label but the shirt itself is very dark.  It’s not what I wanted.

I’m afraid there is nothing I can do, if there’s nothing actually wrong with the item.  Our terms and conditions are very clear.

Nobody reads the terms and conditions, do they?  Look, I’ll send you a photo and you can see what I mean… There.  Got it?

Yes… well, sir, I can tell you, it certainly looks sky blue to me.

What?  You’re having a giraffe!  Or you need your eyes tested.

When did you place your order, sir?

What?  I don’t know.  Last week some time.

Ah, I see here it was a week last Wednesday.

Well, it’s still under wossname, isn’t it?  Isn’t there a cooling-off period?

There is indeed, but I’m afraid, sir, you have fallen foul of the Province’s electoral system.

The what?

The day after you placed your order, there was a referendum, sir.  It was to decide once and for all what defines the colour ‘sky blue’.  For important, nationalistic reasons, like the flag, and the covers of our passports.

I don’t get it.  What’s that got to do with my shirt?

It just so happened that on the day of the referendum, the sky was particularly overcast and grey.  It looked like rain, and that deterred a lot of the voters.  Then as the day drew on, there was a resplendent sunset, and with it an upturn in voters, selecting the red-pink-orange end of the spectrum.  Most people turned up at the polling stations on their way home from work, when the sun had gone down, and so the majority of votes went to the hue of your shirt.

This is bollocks!   What did people do?  Look up at the sky before they went to vote to remind themselves what colour it is?

It would appear that way, sir.  But since the referendum, we have to legally refer to that shade as ‘sky blue’.  It’s what the people want.

But it’s fucking ridiculous!

Oh, don’t get me started!  Do you know what it’s like to live somewhere governed by absolute morons?  I’m only doing this job because they’re rounding up the intellectuals.

Never mind all that.  I just want to send the shirt back and get a refund.

I can offer you a credit note.

I don’t know.  I had my heart set on a sky blue shirt.  That’s my sky blue and not fuckwits’ sky blue.  No offence.

I have credited your account, sir.  Keep the shirt.  Burn it, for all I care.

Oh.  OK, right.  Cheers.  Thanks for that.

Now, is there anything else I can help you with?

No… Oh, hang on!  I need to get a present for my wife.  What can you recommend in ladies’ clothing?

Do you want pre- or post-Cultural Realignment, sir?…  Sir? 

1 Comment

Filed under Short story

One response to “The Wrong Shirt

  1. Spanish Jackie

    I’ve never shopped in Primark is that what it’s like?

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