Be careful who you pick on

I've just been reading Boris Johnson's tale of littering over on The Telegraph.

It's an anecdote which manages to be amusing and worrying at the same time. Amusing because it reminds me of something that happened to me many years ago and worrying because it highlights the attitude of many young people - their contempt for law and authority, their propensity to lie freely when law and authority catch up with them and their worship of celebrity.

It's all very well for mayor Boris to confront these people - it's not so easy for the rest of us. Johnson got away with this because of who he is but, as many have found out, when the average Joe Public does the same thing the response is often to have their head kicked in.

Anyway, back to the anecdote. It reminded me of a time back in the eighties when I was working as a van courier. On this occasion I had the company of a colleague called Brendan - a remarkably phlegmatic and even tempered chap from the Black Country who was happier on a motorcycle than in a "tin box".

We were making our way one summers day along the outside lane of Marylebone Road in my Ford Escort van when we came to one of the many sets of lights on red. While we waited for the lights to turn green a BMW 3 series pulled up on our left with four yuppies braying and whooping inside.

As the lights turned green the BMW sped off, but not before one of the yuppies had launched a half eaten apple through the open window of our van barely missing Brendan. He wasn't too pleased at their behaviour.

Of course, they were stopped at the next set of lights and we soon drew back alongside. Brendan, in his broad midlands accent, asked what they thought they were doing - in a pleasant way. Far from being apologetic they seemed to find the situation and his accent terribly funny.

The lights started to turn green again and, as they were about to speed off once more, Brendan took a last draw on his cigarette and then launched it through the open window of the BMW with a deft flick of some considerable power. I saw it explode with a shower of sparks on the dashboard of the BMW and spew a myriad of hot coals all over the interior of the car.

As we drove off we could see them stuck at the lights frantically trying to extinguish the various embers burning into the cloth of the front seats - and probably their clothing too - while the cars behind hooted impatiently. Brendan coolly finished off the apple and the BMW never caught up with us again.

I'm not sure if that tale has a moral - except maybe that if you're going to annoy somebody then it's best not to pick someone who happens to be a member of a Hell's Angel chapter.

Bring back common courtesy

I came across this article yesterday, but thought I'd leave commenting on it until today as it seems somehow appropriate on St. George's Day.

Fewer than one in four Britons believe common courtesy is still important and simple acts of kindness are in decline, according to a survey.

I find that one of the most depressing statistics I think I've come across in recent years - even with the state of our economy. It's not just the fact that so few people bother with common courtesy - it's the fact that less than 25% think it's important.

I believe that 75% are wrong - common courtesy is important. Not only that, it is free - good manners cost nothing - and be wholly beneficial. Even up until fairly recently I used to go out of my way to fill up at a particular garage. The petrol there was a couple of pence per gallon dearer than most - it was out in the country - but it wasn't self-service.

Instead you'd pull up beside one of the two ancient pumps and a grey haired old gentleman - always wearing a tie - would amble out and ask you what you required. He'd dispense the petrol efficiently and cheerfully, take your cash and bring you your change without you ever having to get out of the car. And all this done with common courtesy and good manners - never a forgotten please or thank you.

I know (because he told me) there were many regular customers - particularly women - who went out of their way to use this particular garage to buy petrol simply because of the standard of service offered. Then came the day when the gentleman retired and the garage went self-service - complete with new pumps and a "shop" - a year later it was closed altogether. Nobody bothered to go there anymore.

Even without that sort of level of service, it still costs nothing to remember the basics of common courtesy - saying please and thank you. Whenever I fill up now - well, not fill up but get my £20 or £30 worth (I won't use cards at petrol stations anymore - only cash) I'm infuriated by the reluctance of staff to say "please" and "thank you".

Frequently, in fact, I go up to the counter to pay while the chap behind the counter chatters away on his mobile phone - pausing only briefly to demand "twenty pounds" and stick his hand out. No attempt to say "please" - not even an "anything else you'd like, sir?" - and then when you do hand the cash over there is no "thank you" - just straight back on the phone. I then have to ask for a VAT receipt and end up feeling guilty for interrupting their bloody phone conversations - "Excuse me", I say politely - "may I have a VAT receipt please?" - at which point the cashier gives me a dirty look before jabbing his grubby fingers at the till and ripping the receipt off the roll as if I've just asked him to wipe my arse for me with it.

I've had enough of it. From now on, any shop I go too I will refuse to hand over the cash until I get a please at the very least. There seems to me to be certain irony that the more we've become a service based nation the less we appear capable of providing decent service.

Bring back common courtesy - we're a better nation and much nicer people with it than we are without it.