Editor’s letter
THERE WAS A time in my life when I sold washing machines at John Lewis. In all honesty, I wasn’t very good at it: sales patter has never been my strong point, and I’d often end up just chatting to customers. Very occasionally, to the relief of my boss, they would buy a washing machine out of a combination of sympathy and boredom. Our sister department was Returns, the lucky chaps who handled all the failed washing machines, vacuum cleaners, TVs and other electrical goods that people like me sold. There was one person I particularly liked talking to – let’s call him Returns Gerry – because he combined a bitter, twisted and deeply funny view on life with genuine, hard-won insight. “Don’t sell xxx brand,” he’d warn me, as xxx…
