Graham Carter the voice of age and experience...

Now I’ve got used to it, I like my grey hair. It makes me look older than I feel, but at least it tells the world I wasn’t born yesterday.

Unfortunately, I must also have a gormless face, because every time I go out and buy anything electrical, the man in the shop treats me like I just landed on the latest boat from Gagaland.

So last Sunday was not a good day.

The washing machine breathed its last breath, and when I tried to disconnect it from the water supply, the tap refused to be turned off, so needed replacing.

This required not one but two trips to the DIY store – because I don’t think I’ve ever bought plumbing equipment in my whole life and got it home to find it was what I actually needed.

So most of the day was gone and I was already pretty miffed when we finally set off to the shop to order a new washing machine, which is always an insult to one’s intelligence.

It started when we were pondering which model to buy and the man in the shop told us that they are much lighter than they used to be.

A result of better engineering, perhaps? No, apparently.

“They aren’t built so well,” said the man. “Nothing is made to last these days.”

As it’s a long walk to the river and the mangle shop isn’t open on Sundays, we decided to risk it and cough up the three hundred quid for it, anyway.

So now we were in what we like to call The Twilight Zone – that bizarre time after they have sold you the goods, but before they have finished trying to sell you the pointless extended warranty.

I should say that this particular store likes to point out that they don’t sell extended warranties, but rather ‘after sales care’ or some such nonsense.

This is because as well as providing a kind of insurance against it breaking down, they regularly come out to ‘flush through’ your machine, every now and then, as if that is going to make any difference.

It’s still extended warranty in our book, and it would have cost us nearly £7 a month.

So the man in the shop now has the job of convincing us that the thing we just spent our hard-earned cash on is, in fact, totally unreliable and liable to fall apart – not in the first year, when it will be covered by the guarantee, but 366 days after we bought it.

You can expect to hear some scaremongering, but what you don’t expect is what we heard next, which was this: “I’ve had a Hotpoint before, but I wouldn’t have one again.”

“Pardon?” I say. “We just ordered a Hotpoint, and now you’re telling us they’re rubbish?”

I didn’t catch his answer because I walked away to avoid an awkward situation. Nobody likes to see a man with grey hair punching somebody on the nose.

And here’s the thing: grey hair turns out to be no proof of wisdom or even common sense – because the man in the shop’s hair was grey too.

Let me quickly add, for those facing sleepless nights over the lifespan of their appliances, that the average washing machine is not unreliable, but actually lasts seven years, and our old one lived to be 15.

If we had put £7 in the bank every month, not only would we now have enough money to replace the washing machine, but could also buy ourselves a dishwasher, a fridge, a microwave, a cuddly toy and enough hair colouring to last me until my 100th birthday.