Personal

The salesman

From the outset he wasn't the most dynamic salesman. His face sank when I answered "yes" to his faux-sincere "May I help you?".

I'll give him two out of ten for enthusiasm. His knowledge of the product line was similarly weak. But I'd made up my mind: I would be buying a new radio, and so much better to buy from a local firm rather than a chain. I'd just have to gamble on the reception being any good.

(I wonder: did the salesman's instinct tell him straightaway that I'd be making a purchase? Was he in fact just thinking, "Oh get on with it, then I can go home"?)

Things picked up when we small-talked television though. "Do you really not have one?" he asked. "You know, I wouldn't miss it at all. I have my music and that's enough. I watch TV all day here and only once every two or three months do they play any music I like."

This, remember, is all coming from the mouth of someone who makes his living comes from selling TVs and hi-fis.

"I'm alright tonight though," he continued. "It's my birthday so someone's bought me a CD." And then, "Do you want the extended warrantee with that?"

I thanked him ("With any luck we'll both be listening to good music tonight") then walked away - radio in hand - shaking my head and smiling. Ten minutes of shared time, and the roles were totally mixed up. On one level he was simply selling me a radio. But on another, actual communication.

Back at home, the reception's lousy. I've had to rearrange my bedroom so the bed is by the window where the signal's strongest. But at least the music's great.