At the beginning of the week, I made arrangements for a business agent to make a viewing today. The appointment was set for 11am and of course, yesterday I busied myself with preparations for the day, making the place look a little presentable, getting paperwork together, etc.
At 9am, the MIssus received a call from said agent saying that he couldn’t make the appointment because he was on the M11 and his car alarm kept going off and he’d need to go to a garage. The fact that The Missus could hear no evidence of an alarm or a car or motorway left her non-plussed, but she was annoyed that this fellow explained how he would reschedule with us next week but be able to meet his other appointments this afternoon.
I am a bit of an appointment fascist and have a “zero tolerance” towards lateness or flakery of this nature. I wouldn’t have cared if his trousers were on fire or if he drove all the way here with the alarm going, as long as he met the appointment. If he’d called 24 hours earlier, I would forgive, but this Johnny-come-lately approach riles me considerably.
Those who are afflicted with religion ask “What Would Jesus Do?” whereas those of us who are involved in business ask “What would Duncan Bannatyne do?”. So I emailed the company telling them that this man missed his appointment and to send someone else if they wanted to do business with me. If this fellow does turn up, it will be hard for me not to call him Mr Bullshit, instead of his proper name.
So after lunch, the phone rings and it is Mr Bullshit. He got the email, he isn’t happy. But I don’t give him enough time to weave another weft of bullshit in my ear and I just tell him: “It’s very serious that you’ve missed this appointment. I don’t like it when people waste my time. And I don’t want to hear what you have to say. Goodbye”.
Like I said, they created a monster in me…

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