I’D like to send out a message to anybody reading this who works for inSwindon, the business improvement outfit tasked with running the town centre.

The next time they even think of doing something promotional that’s aimed at young people, perhaps they might want to put a few young people on the payroll before going ahead.

The young people don’t have to be on long-term contracts – just long enough for them to pull a face, laugh contemptuously and say whatever it is they say these days when they want to express disapproval.

Then maybe the folks at inSwindon, a fine and much-needed organisation, can avoid some of the bad publicity that came their way the other day.

You may have read about it in your trusty Swindon Advertiser. inSwindon, no doubt with the best of intentions, ran a competition for users of its shuttle bus service between the Designer Outlet and the town centre.

They invited people to take selfies and send them to #SwindonShuttleSelfie That was their first mistake. The whole point of selfies is that they’re supposed to be spontaneous. Even I know that, and I’m a fat, bald, middle-aged man who has never taken a selfie in his life, unless you count the time I had my phone the wrong way round and captured an enormous image of a hideous bloodshot eye instead of the holiday snap I’d hoped for.

The other thing about selfies is that they’re usually supposed to make the person in them look at least a bit glamorous. Now then, there’s nothing wrong with buses. They’re very useful and quite interesting if you’re fond of that sort of thing.

I personally like a Leyland Atlantean or a Volvo B7TL Plaxton as much as the next man whose friends and acquaintances wonder how the hell he isn’t single, but I wouldn’t call the interior of a bus a glamorous location.

What inSwindon has done here is made the error, common among adults trying to publicise things, that attaching ‘#’ or ‘@’ or words such as ‘selfie’ to something will instantly make young people think you’re speaking their language.

It doesn’t. It just makes them sigh in an exaggerated way and raise their eyebrows a bit, just as a previous generation did when some bright spark at an advertising agency decided that ending plurals with ‘z’ instead of ‘s’ would mean they were ‘down wiv da kidz, innit?’ It’s difficult to tell where and when this phenomenon began, but my guess is that it was shortly after the invention of the teenager in about 1956. I suspect the culprit was probably the first well-meaning vicar to pull out a battered acoustic guitar and attempt to join in with a skiffle group who were rehearsing in a church hall.

The other mistake made by inSwindon was cancelling the competition and withdrawing the announced £100 prize when there were inevitably less than 10 entries.

And yes, I know the organisation clearly stated on its website that it reserved the right to do this, but that doesn’t make a blind bit of difference. The man who runs the coconut shy is legally entitled to use the heaviest coconuts and the lightest balls, but that doesn’t make the game feel any less like a swizz.

All is not lost for inSwindon, though. Apparently the prize is being retained for a future competition of some kind, so there is still time to recruit some young people and ask their advice.

I suggest hunting in popular fast food establishments and approaching whoever looks most sullen.

I also have a brilliant idea for our planning department, involving kids who like playing Minecraft, but I’ll save that for another occasion.