Back in the days when the only Ikea store in the North West was the Warrington branch, I'd seen something in the catalogue which I'd fancied. Can't even remember what it was, but I know it was something innocous. Possibly a tie rack. (I used to wear ties then!). So we make the journey, go through the queue, and then through their ridiculous insistance that you can only go through the store (up to a point) their way, in order to view everything on display. That was irritating enough, but what followed demonstrated an arrogance and level of incompetence, that made me vow never to set foot in there, or any other Ikea, ever again.

Having gone through the lunacy of traipsing through every department, dutifully following the painted footsteps on the floor, we finally get to the "free flow" area. But I can't find what I'm looking for. So I ask an assistant. I'm told it's back where I've just come from. So, against the flow of traffic, I walk back, almost to the start, and look. Everywhere. But I can't find what I'm looking for. So I ask an assistant. This one checks the computer. (He might as well have consulted the oracle whilst examining a birds entrails...) Yes, they do have some in, but they're back where I asked the first assistant, who clearly doesn't know what they're doing. So I get back in the traffic flow, (always easier swimming with the tide!), and I'm at a slightly different point to where I started looking. But I can't find what I'm looking for. So I ask an assistant. Who informs me that they're in with the furniture. So I go in there, but I can't find any, and go back to the accessories. But I can't find what I'm looking for. So I ask an assistant. This girl had a little more brains. (Obviously she can't still be working there, being a fish out of water), and she tells me that, yes I'm in the right place, and regardless of what the computer says, they don't have any in stock.

So I've now been sent all over this f***ing store, by incompetents, twice. I did have some other bits in my hand which I'd intended to purchase, but I was in no mood to give Ikea any of my money as well as my time. I just dumped whatever it was on the nearest flat surface and walked out.

Forever.

Being Jewish, we're supposed to go to the synagogue every Saturday morning. But Fiona prefers to worship at a different temple. That of Saint Michael. Marks and Spencer hardly use the St. Michael brand any longer, but the reverence continues.

It was an ordinary day. We'd gone for some food, and to get some clothing. One item in the foods at least was good value, with a reduced sticker on it.

We bagged everything up, and made our way upstairs. I tried on a couple of things, decided to buy whatever it was and waited in line to pay. Whilst we were waiting, Fiona noticed that her receipt for the food wasn't tallying correctly. The cashier had scanned the regular barcode, instead of entering the reduced item. As we reached the cash desk, I pointed this out to the guy behind the till, who advised us to go to "Customer Services" where they would deal with it.

So we then queued at the "Customer Services" desk. There's no incentive to get this line moving speedily, so we waited 10 minutes before we were finally granted an audience. The woman there informed us that we'd have to go back to the basement. She couldn't deal with foods.

By now my patience had run out. I did ask if it wouldn't be a good idea if all their staff weren't singing from the same hymn book, to which I received my only yes.

Back to the basement (from the top floor), where the discrepancy was corrected.

I was so angry (recollections of Ikea) that I asked the name of the manager, and returning home, dashed off a real letter to him. I made a point of mentioning that I hadn't set foot in another Ikea on account of their presumption that my time was theirs to waste, and were it not for my wifes slavish devotion to the faith I would be quite happy to stay away from his branch.

Clearly, Marks and Spencer managers are cut from a different cloth. I received an apology, along with an explanation that he had identified those persons involved, (how he dealt with them is not my business), and a £20 voucher. He did also ask me if I could identify the cashier at the food counter, but by then, I'd discarded the receipt. In any event, I regarded her as blameless. It's easy enough to miss those stickers.

I wrote back thanking him for his attendance on the matter, and also for the voucher, stating that for my part I considered the matter closed.

That's how to put right a wrong!