IT was a tin of lychees that finally took me over the edge.

Whether it’s attempting to buy sports equipment, ordering electrical appliances or trying to purchase a jar of posh oriental fruit, I have a habit of seeking out the most inept shop assistants.

Perhaps I am getting old (29), but it feels as though customer service is sadly on the wane. And I seem to be wading wallet-deep in these sorry new depths every time I try to buy something.

It all began back in May 2008, when I attempted to buy a washing machine. The machine was, apparently, sitting in a depot in England, but would be arriving in Jersey within six weeks. It arrived in November.

But very little compares to my experiences while trying to complete the relatively simple task of buying food.

I understand that for many shop workers, stacking shelves or scanning items through a check-out was not a chosen career path. And I appreciate that some – perhaps even most – don’t really enjoy their work.

But I don’t really enjoy shopping. And the experience is made a whole lot worse when I find myself loitering in an aisle while the shop assistant wanders off to locate something that I can’t find, even though he has no idea what he is looking for.

I just about coped with being led down the household cleaning aisle after asking for a jar of rollmop herrings. And I laughed off the blank expression that stared back at me when I asked for some amaretto biscuits. ‘The biscuits are eaten by Italians and pretentious British people,’ I explained.

I genuinely try to be patient. But every time I take a step forward, I take two giant steps back. It’s almost like I’m fighting my own little Afghanistan right there in the confectionery aisle.

Last year the States launched the Think Twice, Buy Local campaign to encourage us to purchase from Island stores. It’s a great idea. And I don’t think that customer service in Jersey is any worse than in any other parts of Britain. In fact, I have encountered excellent service in some Island shops.

But buying household goods from the internet is just a lot less painful. The internet understands what I’m asking for, works efficiently and seems to know where all its products are located. It also gets them to me on time.

And just when I thought that I had experienced the worst of customer assistance, during a recent trip to the UK up stepped a shelf-stacking superstar seemingly determined to take the crown for cringingly bad customer service.

‘Do you have any lychees?’ I asked, fearing the worst. Despite the fact that she initially strode away with an unexpected air of confidence, my hopes were shattered when she returned and crossed my palms with a pack of mild Cathedral City.
‘This is quite light,’ she said.