Friday, 29 April 2011


Yesterday my daughter was walking through Oxford town centre when she received a call on her mobile from Amazon. (US? UK? Germany? France? We do not know.) The caller, with an Irish accent, demanded she give him my mobile number.

'We've sent him two emails - we need a reply,' the caller said.

My daughter, a little fazed by this bizarre contact and its timing, refused to give them my number. She doesn't know my mobile number by heart (and neither do I), and didn't see it was her business to help other, unidentified, persons meddle in mine.

Today she hands in her thesis. You can imagine her state of heightened sensibilities. Three years of intense study - collections imminent and finals looming. And there was Amazon hassling her - on the High Street - as she enjoyed a rare few carefree moments.

How did Amazon get her mobile number? I have never given it to them. I have never given them my mobile number (which is why, the caller said, they were asking her for it).

And, then I remembered. Two years ago I ordered a book for her from Amazon France - I must have given her number as a contact in case ... in case. Hang on ... she's changed her phone and number at least three times since then.

'Tell yer da' to contact us,' the caller said.
'Give me your number and I'll tell him to contact you,' my daughter replied.
'I can't give out our number ...'
To be continued .....

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