32 inches of pleasure



Sometimes you've got to splash out.

Our old telly, which you can see above, was trendy in its day.  But that day is now long gone and something had to be done.

I'd been thinking for some time about bagging us a new one and today - I struck.

This morning I received an e-mail from Argos telling me there was one cut price 32" Hitachi HD Ready TV in their central Bradford store and it would be mine for £249.99. (I think they sent a similar e-mail to everyone else who'd ever bought anything from Argos, but I can't be sure. Plus, in truth, they didn't actually mention Bradford at all but, on doing a search, I discovered there was one there and none in either Leeds or Keighley so, same thing really). 

I wasted little time in reserving the item and, as soon as I'd finished work, jumped on a Bradford-bound fast train.

However, as I got closer and in the midst of my excitement, I began to worry that I might have made an error.  After picking it up, my plan was to head home on the New Pudsey train, including 20 minutes of walking to and from the stations. Carrying my new big TV.

"It'll be alright!" I thought.  "I can manage!"

And I had almost convinced myself - right until the moment when the nice man at Argos plonked the huge box in front of me at Collection Point B, before asking: "Are you you going to be OK with that?!"

"Er, yes...." I whimpered, as I spotted this sticker.

I only made it half way to the train station in the end, before accepting that the bus might be a better - and closer - option.  Particularly as my upper limbs now resembled those of Stretch Armstrong.

And here was me on the number 72 a quarter of an hour later. (Camera phones are so handy).

But the effort was certainly worthwhile.

Charlotte was impressed, before I even managed to unpack my booty. 

And Sceptical Vanessa, after only a minute of her 21st century TV experience, had to admit she was very pleased to have a wonderful new friend to gaze at during her year off. And it is wonderful, trust me.

What's that? Does it have a name? Of course!

Telly Savalas.  After Kojak.