Stupid rules

with a somewhat convoluted effort to make this post relevant to this month's theme

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Somewhere in England there is a secret committee that comes up with stupid rules. I am utterly convinced of it. Or perhaps there is a secret National Stupid Rule Competition, in which local groups submit examples of rules they’ve come up with. A panel of stupid rule experts (by which I mean experts in stupid rules) study the entries and, after hours and weeks of deliberation, announce the winner.

I don’t know. What I do know is that I cannot fathom how otherwise supposedly intelligent people could make up some of the rules I’ve encountered.

A window that doesn’t work very well. Photo by Terry Freedman

An odd guarantee

Eight years ago we had double glazing put in. We’d become fed up with warming up the outside of the house while shivering inside. So we had new windows, and they came with a ten year warranty.

Recently, Elaine was sitting in the lounge, when there was a loud bang. The outer window had shattered, for no apparent reason. I phoned the company the next day.

Me: There was a loud bang, and the outer window shattered. Are we in danger of being burgled, or murdered in our beds?

Company: No, the inner glass is really tough. We’ll make arrangements to come along and replace the window.

Me: Excellent. It’s still under warranty.

Company: No it isn’t. The glass isn’t covered.

Me: Er, it’s a window, and it’s made of glass. So what is covered?

Company: Everything apart from the glass. If we guaranteed the glass we’d be bankrupt in a week, because anything could have caused that, like a bird hitting it.

It sounded like a stupid rule at first, but I can see their logic. And it’s an excellent company, so I’m not arguing. But it does seem insane that a guarantee covering something made of glass doesn’t cover the actual glass.

The works canteen

In ten minutes’ time I was due to start a training session with a load of teachers, and I was famished. I looked through the window of the canteen, and espied loads of scrumptious-looking sandwiches and rolls. I sallied forth.

Me: Good morning. I’d like a cheese salad roll please.

Canteen lady: You can’t buy that yet.

Me: Why not?

CL: Because we don’t sell them until ten o’clock. (It was 09:50).

Me: I’m teaching at 10 o’clock, so I have just enough time to eat one now please.

CL: No. You can buy a Danish pastry.

Me: I don’t want a Danish pastry. It’s full of rubbish. I want to have something relatively healthy to eat.

CL: Come back at 10 o’clock then.

Me: I can’t. Why can’t you sell me a cheese salad roll now?

CL: That’s the rules.

Me: Why?

CL: Because that’s the rules.

She clearly knew as much as I did about the reason for that idiocy.

Pizza

I walked into a pizzeria.

Me: I’d like a mozarella and tomato pizza to go please.

Pizza person: We don’t sell pizzas to go in here.

Me: So what does that sign saying “Order a take-away pizza here” mean?

PP: It means you have to phone up to order it.

Me: See your window in the front?

PP: Yes?

Me: Can you see a telephone booth just outside it?

PP: Yes?

Me: Are you saying that if I go outside the door, and go into that phone booth and phone up, you will be able to sell me a pizza?

PP: That’s right.

Me: Well, how about pretending I’ve phoned up? Because there is no way that I am going to waste time, and waste money on a phone call, when I could just place my order here.

PP: Because —

Me: Look, you have a choice. You can sell me a pizza by taking my order here, or you can lose out completely when I walk a few yards up the road to the other pizzeria.

He sold me one.

I wonder if there’s no stupid rule committee and no stupid rule competition, and that it’s just the English approach to rules. That is, all rules have to be obeyed, even if they are completely pointless.

Mind you, I do like the idea of a stupid rule committee. I’d be tempted to join and submit a few of my own. In fact, I already do have a few.

On my first visit to Elaine’s parents, as we were leaving and about to get in the car, Elaine’s mum spoke to me:

Mother-in-Law: I’d like to invite you both over to dinner one evening. I understand you’re a vegetarian, but do you eat fish?

Me: It all depends. If the month has an odd number of days I can eat cod, but if it has an even number of days I can only eat haddock. However, during the winter period I can only eat fish if the name of the month ends in “er”. On the other hand —

She shut the door on me. She clearly didn’t like my rules.

They seemed perfectly reasonable to me.