I walked out of the gym after spluttering on the Stairmaster for half an hour. As I opened the door to exit onto the street someone called ‘Have a nice evening,’.

I turned around, to smile at the receptionists who I thought had wished me this parting salutation. Both of them weren’t looking in my direction and stood behind their desks looking at their computer monitors. I looked up at the ceiling, thinking perhaps, 24 Hour Fitness have an automated speaker that wishes you ‘have a nice evening / day / morning’ depending on the time.

If you are being told to have a nice whatever, you’d think it would be said with at the very least eye contact, or, on a good day, a warm smile. Otherwise it seems like an empty wish. The robotic, insincere mutterings of a customer diservice professional. I scowled as I walked to my car. I had a terrible evening.