Yesterday I took my phone into the Vodafone shop because it's knackered itself and won't switch on any more. My conversation with the woman behind the counter went something like this:

Me: My phone's broken, can I get it repaired?

Her: Have you got the charger that came with it? I can't take it without the charger

Me: The charger that came with it is broken

Her: Well they'll need to test the phone with the charger that came with it, to make sure it's not the charger that's broken

Me: The charger that came with it IS broken, that's what I'm telling you

(She consults with the store manager)

Her: Right we'll take it, but you should bring the charger next time

Me: (weeps)

Her: Ok, it'll be ready on the 29th, you'll receive a text when it's in store

Me: On what phone?

Her: Your mobile

Me: The one you're about to send off to be repaired?

Her: Oh. Right.

Me: This store is staffed by useless fuckbats. I hate you all, you collection of pig-brained imbeciles

(At this point I set fire to the shop and ran off into the night)