‘No thank you – life’s too short’
That was my response to the very friendly barista in Coffee #1 when he asked if I’d like to start a loyalty card for that particular chain of caffeine dens that I found myself in this week.
To be honest with you, I’m not sure why the words spilled out of my mouth. Having done so, however, I felt obliged to reassure the poor chap that I was in no way suggesting that my state of health was so fragile that it was unlikely that I’d live long enough to imbibe the ten hot – or cold – beverages necessary for me to claim a free Americano.
That said, now that I’m approaching sixty and my enthusiasm for unnecessary excitement is beginning to wane, were I ever to acquire a terminal diagnosis – something I suppose I ought to get round to organising before it’s too late – I suspect the goal of attaining such a drink-based reward would be just the kind of thing I’d likely put on my bucket list.
Only I might opt for a macchiato – because, let’s face it, you only die once.
And so I was left wondering what I should make my primary goals for the few remaining months, or perhaps years – let’s not be pessimistic – that I have left. By which I don’t mean the writing of a will – I’m not that boring – but rather, for example, whether, on discovering I’d come out without my Waterstones card, I should dash home and return with it to make sure any points earned by my purchase of a book could be immediately added to my tally. I’m joking of course – that would be ridiculous – but in the unlikely event of my buying ‘War and Peace’ – or ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar’ come to that – it would be good to know if the points they’d accrue could be used to posthumously swell those I’d already collected!
And whilst we’re on the subject of how commercial enterprises deal with their deceased former customers, does anyone know whether those Sainsbury’s Bags for Life are transferable? Because if they’re not, I’m blowed if I’ll be buying any more!
This week I also had cause to buy a new lawnmower – the previous incumbent having ended its days through neglect rather than overuse. It came with a two-year guarantee which may or may not see me out, but what I am now looking forward to is the inevitable phone call offering me complete peace of mind – something it will no doubt be claimed can be mine simply by my paying to extend the length of the warranty. But if added years come at a cost, I’m minded to ask for a refund in the event of me not needing the full use of the 24 months my new purchase came with.
Quite why I bothered with such garden equipment though, I really couldn’t say as I’ve recently been investing time and effort in trying to rewild my back garden. Well I say effort, but the truth of the matter is that none is required and, more pertinently, the beauty of the scheme is that after my death, it will continue on apace without me.
So at least I now know what my legacy will be. Which is just as well, as these days, much like an acceptable cause of death, you can’t die till you’ve got one to leave behind!
Related post:
To read ‘A Dead Good Day’, click here
Some musings 