We may have fought off the dreaded ID card, but retailers are still out to get us:
Why does retail want my details?
Nosey cashiers have turned shopping into a Stalinist nightmare for Wendy Holden
Published: 7:00AM BST 11 Aug 2010
What do an ironing board, a haircut and a case of wine have in common? In order to get them, I was expected to hand over information I’d think twice about giving a policeman.
It was on a sunny Friday morning in Majestic Wine Warehouse that my problems began. I’d popped in to replenish our stocks of Côtes de Provence rosé. When I handed over my debit card at the till, the assistant asked for all my details – address, phone number, email, mobile phone – to put on a computer. When I asked why, as I didn’t need credit or to have the stuff delivered, he said it was so I could receive information about Majestic events, plus a copy of the company magazine.
Luckily, my social life is full enough not to depend on promotional events by wine retailers, and I buy more glossy magazines than I ever get through, even if the Majestic one has Catherine Zeta-Jones on the cover. So I politely turned him down. His evident amazement was less surprising than the implication that my act was unprecedented in the history of the store. 8)
....
My identity crisis came to a head, as it were, in a hair salon in Cornwall last week. Having a rare hour to myself (husband and children having gone off to see Toy Story 3), I decided to get my hoary locks trimmed. Scene as follows:
Me (entering salon): Could you trim my hair, please?
Spiky-haired middle-youth on reception desk: Yeah, sure, no problem. I’ll just take a few details down on the computer [fingers poised over keyboard]. Name, address?
Me: Do you mind if I don’t? I just want a haircut.
Him (clearly stunned): But we always take people’s details. We need them to keep in touch with our customers.
Me: I’d rather not. All I want is a haircut.
By now the whole salon was staring at me and it was tempting to turn on my flip-flopped heel. However, I felt my position was reasonable and I wanted my hair cut. Whereupon the following conversation took place:
Haircutter (called Don, snip-snipping with his scissors): Look, about that computer thing, we only take personal details to keep in touch with our customers, OK? Build up a relationship. Keep them informed.
Me: Yes. But I just didn’t want to, that was all.
Don (still agitated): We’re not going to do anything with it. This information you don’t want to give us. Nothing funny or anything. [I don’t reply.] So, you on holiday?
Me (relieved he has changed subject): Yes
Don (sarcastically): Incognito, eh?
Me: Look, Don, I think you should just get over me not wanting to give you all my details. It isn’t necessary.
Don (aggressively): OK, OK, I am over it, OK. I am. Over it. Look, I’ll just cut in complete silence, shall I? Happy?
Actually, as Don’s sharp scissors were millimetres from my neck, I wasn’t that happy. I didn’t want to be the first martyr to the cause of the right of the individual to shop without full disclosure. The cut was finished in sulky silence. I paid – cash – and left.
I will go on with my campaign against this invasive lunacy, however. And I invite you all to join me. When you’re asked for personal details, do as I do. Just say no.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/finance/news ... tails.html