Aye Melody. Quality, wit we awe widnea give for some decent dross to watch!
Being an aircraft engineer, I also always strongly advocate quality over quantity / profit and any greed driven motives, after all many fowks lives depend on the quality and completeness of any servicing / maintenance carried out. Every wee chit /docket you sign is a legal and binding instrument that can get you strung up in the most embarassing manner. When matters go pear shaped the management invoke witch hunting measures and don thier shitproof blame avoidance shoulderpads.
As is normal British working practice, the buck stops with the fitter's apprentice or teaboy. Naturally, the management are exonerated and you may think quite rightly so depending on which side of the boardroom table you get yer tea and biscuits.
Unfortunately, while filling a boring gap between Uni Sessions, I had the dubious pleasure of sitting in with ITV Digital for a wee while. This is when the buffons were embarking on the ill fated voyage of setting up their doomed Digital TV network system. Anyone with a modicum of common sense knew it was a dead duck, all except the management. None as blind as those who won't see,
Natually, the unfrastructure was incomplete and a disgrace of the first magnitude. As such they could not deliver a quality product to most or thier customers, yet the idiotic powers that were, blindly pushed this keech out to compete with Sky.
Not given a flying toss about this worthless occupation, and as an engineer at heart I was quite content with putting fowks off buying or subscribing to this fated keech, which it undoubtedly was. As a measure of thier business plan, they even had a scabby monkey for a mascot which they attempted to use to improve the peddleworthiness thier wares, says it all really. That particular monkey has now been ninja'd by PG Tips, and can currently be seen between programmed dross on ITV. Concider that a friendly warning, and avoid it at all costs!
During one particular non descript day, I was yapping away to a prospective custom.. er, victim even. I was describing the merits of opting for SKy Digital instead of ITV Digital. Whereupon, one pretentious, of the worst kind, and particularly irritating female manager
muttered in some up it's ain erse Inglish twang. "Robert, you are not a salesperson, are you?"
I replied in my poshest Gleasga lilt. "Wit!?, ah'v wurked in the Barra's ye ken and ah'm an Avionics Ingineer and ken mair aboot aerials then ye ken aboot Ariel soap pooder that ye obviously dinnea use." She was telt that in no uncertain terms, under the pain of slow agonising death, that only ma Maw, or Psych nurse; same thing really, are permitted to address me as Robert!
My attempt at mild sarcasm, I duly noted, was wasted on this particular humourless, pucker moothed, soor faced troot. Well, it's better to have tried and failed .... I then quicky opted for ignore drongo mode. Honestly, where do some of these people come from, are they imported from another planet to plague humanity>
Between survival training and my hourly valium medications, I recieved a phone call for assistance which involved assisting an elderly lady in setting up her new telly and to attune her new set top digital box. One of the first things you had to ascertain was the manufacturer of the set top box, as procedures for tweaking them varied enormously, so much for universal standards and consistancy.
Anyway, no being one to comply with Politically Correct <DILLIGAF> protocols and the like I asked the elderly lady:-
"Can you gie us the name on the box please, Sweetiepie?" After a few minates of fumbling noises, she comes back and croaks in a cackling tone "Eh, wit was that Son?"
Thinking to meself with that crashing feelin gin the pit of me stomach whilst popping another pill with a swig of vodka out the water bottle, "Here we effing go again!"
Instantly bouyed up by the comforting warmth of the alcohol, I decided to attempt a new tack. "Ok, Mrs, can you see the name on the box?."
She cheerly answered, "Aye, Son I can see the name!" Thinking to myself, "Praise ye Gods, this could have taken a while."
A moment or two passed, slowly with more footering and mumbling noises. I then prompted her, "Brillaint Mrs., can you tell me the name on the box then?" She belted out, with some gusto, obviously pleased with herself. "Parcel Force."
I nearly wee'd meself with laffing, the auld biddy hadnea even opened boax, bless her support stoakings.
You ken that was not untypical of some of the issues I had to deal with when setting up that ITV Digital toly. Eventually, I told then to stuff their shite civvy joab were it hurt and a few weeks later ITV Digital went to the wall.
No great surprise there, to my great delight and many others, an ill concieved product of quanity over quality bit the dust. Justice prevailed and all was well with the world, for a day or two.