The old man with the moustache and the perfectly formed sense of righteousness examines my personalised Christmas card offerings. With a narrowing of the eyes and a dismissive air he declares them to be too expensive. Doesn’t look like he’s short of a few bob either if grooming and clothing are anything to go by. In his working years I reckon he was a bank manager or a shop steward.

Yep, definitely Mr. Shop Steward. Knows everything about everything despite being as thick as a half dozen railway sleepers. That explains his absolute insistence that the pittance I charge for Christmas cards is way too much. “Sure you can buy the card for doing them in Dixons for half nothing”, he says without making eye contact. “Is that right? And what about the design and putting the photograph and message on them”. “Ah sure anyone can do that on the computer nowadays”. And that’s my cue to just walk away because if I let myself get into a conversation like that, it wouldn’t do my heart any good.

After the first year he poked his nose into my work I just dismissed him as an old codger bored out of his tree waiting for the wife getting her hair done or something. Never thought I’d see him again but he returns like a bad smell at the same time every year. He must have it marked on his Shop Steward’s diary or something :

End November/Early December. Visit shopping centre and see about getting personalised Christmas cards. Annoy the guy trying to make a living and belittle the effort that goes in to making something that doesn’t look as shit as what I’d make myself if I bought paper from Dixons and printed it out on my shitty printer.

And every year it’s the same comment about them being too expensive. A once a year purchase of a few cards is going to break the bank for this man. A man that can only see the value of something in terms of the piece of paper it is printed on. There is, literally, no winning in a situation like that unless you move on price. This year, I did move on price and offered a different type of card. Much cheaper to produce and, therefore, cheaper to sell. It was a case of having to do it, as there are a lot more Mr. Shop Stewards around nowadays with the R_______n

Anyway, there I was last week working away and who should I spot only my favourite little ray of sunshine eyeing up the Christmas cards. I fully expected the conversation to go as it had in previous years. I wanted it to go as it did previously. I desperately needed confirmation that he was just an old miserable codger who was never going to buy a Christmas card anyway, and price was just an excuse.

“Ah, it’s yourself. So, what do you think of the Christmas cards this year – does the price suit you?”. Here it comes now – the “too expensive” line.. “Yeah, I got some on Saturday actually”. Wait, what was that – you actually BOUGHT them? This can’t be right. You’re just a miserable old codger who loves to come in every year and play with my mind. Who has the script? There’s been some mistake.

But no, he actually did buy them. I asked how many he got and when he got them. Sure enough, there it was on the order book. 13 Christmas cards. I’m just sad I wasn’t there to actually take the money from his almost cold dead hand and do a little victory dance. A hollow victory dance since he really won the battle, but hey I’ll dance if I want to. He got a little dig before he went though. “Yeah, the Christmas cards are good for the price now. Pity your calendars aren’t cheaper though”. I couldn’t even muster a response to that. All I could do was watch him walk off with his hands behind his back looking all Mr. Shop Stewardy. If he thinks those calendar prices are coming down, he’s got another thing coming. Miserable old codger.