WHILE accepting that all good things come to an end, I feel that introducing parking charges at Water Eaton park-and-ride on November 11 – Armistice Day – was in somewhat bad taste. Worse still was to subject motorists into using a parking meter that demands the skills of the most advanced computer games players.

Listening to the sighs of those queuing behind me as I struggled with the touch screen while watching the bus driver check his watch and threatening to move off was enough to persuade me to use Pear Tree in future. Its machines may have shortcomings, but nothing like the Water Eaton specimen.

WERE I so inclined, I could have done the week’s shop, bought a stack of cards, then forked out a king’s ransom in stamps to go with them – without speaking to a soul.

Groceries were bought from Sainsbury’s in the Westgate centre; the cards at W H Smith’s, and the stamps from St Aldate’s main post office. All three are ‘victims’ of the self-checkout epidemic that threatens to wipe out staff/customer relations – along with the jobs of many of those staff.

I chose to queue at all three. The personal touch, a smile and a cheerful word with the person behind the till is more to my liking than being ordered about by a disembodied female voice that revives memories of a grim-faced, tweed-skirted, ‘sensibly’-shod school ma’am of yesteryear.

However, a smiling member of the post office staff suggested I should use an all-singing-and-dancing machine. He would help. Although only five people were ahead in the queue of 14, he assured me time would be saved.

Not wanting to seem ungrateful I accepted his offer, trying to restrain my Luddite leanings that so often emerge as technology marches on. We made our way to the machine, but a woman with a worried expression posing a number of vital questions, claimed his attention. By the time he returned, the queue had vanished.

BANISHING negative thoughts I went into the Crisis café at the Old Fire Station. Lunch beckoned. The place buzzed with cheerful chatter – just what was needed. Looking around I realised why.

Having a cup of coffee with some of his cast and crew was Peter Duncan, who has written and will direct for the eighth year, the Oxford Playhouse pantomime. Robin Hood opens on November 29.

Peter assured me all was going well in rehearsals at the Fire Station Studio and we could expect a lively show with lots of surprises. I never for a minute doubted it. This unrepentant traditional pantomime devotee is counting the days.