Reasons why you should never buy an extended warranty, part 4,637: Allan Sturgess, 36, a chap from Blackpool, recently bought an £800 television from Comet and, possibly suffering a random bout of insanity, then paid £360 for insurance, no doubt with a salesman in a nasty nylon tie punching the air as he left.

Eight months later, his telly went on the blink, but Allan was not dismayed. He had his trusty warranty, see. So he returned to the store and politely asked for a replacement. No, said the staff. Why, asked Allan? The fault was not covered because he hadn’t installed the set correctly. It was “tough luck” and he’d have to buy another. This is when Allan lost his temper slightly and returned with a hammer, smashing a £999 TV. Six days later he came back again and destroyed five more showroom TV sets. I do hope they were insured. But something tells me there would be some get-out clause concerning maniacs with hammers.

Anyway, magistrates have given Allan an 18-month supervision order for criminal damage, but to me he is still the moral victim. Because who among us has not fantasised about garrotting the salesman who tries to flog us a £10 insurance policy for a £30 toaster? And when you say no, either shakes his head in a “you sad loser” way or refuses to accept your answer and dry-humps your leg until you give in?

I’m increasingly convinced that all types of insurance and guarantees are secretly a dystopian conspiracy to send us all mad. I took out an expensive extended warranty on a car once and when it broke down six months later was told by the garage that – jeez, would you believe it! – by rotten luck the one part that had perished happened not to be covered and, ooh, I must be jinxed.

This week I bought a hairdryer. Nothing flash – Remington, £19.99 – but in order to “register” my FREE GUARANTEE! (aren’t all new products guaranteed by law anyway?) there was a form containing no fewer than 21 questions, which became so gratuitously nosy I thought they might ask whether I’ve ever enjoyed dogging. How much do I earn? What’s my husband’s date of birth? How old are our children? Are we detached, semi or terraced? In what month do we renew home contents, buildings and car insurance? For a 20 quid hairdryer? Do these people think we have “dickhead” tattooed on our foreheads? As a thanks for our “help” we’d be entered in a FREE PRIZE DRAW! Oh, and unless we spotted some tiny writing at the bottom and ticked a box, our personal details may be “passed to other reputable organisations who may contact you by mail or phone”.

On balance, I think I’ll forgo the guarantee and take my chances on it not breaking down. I wonder if Allan might have a spare hammer?

bargainhunter@thetimes.co.uk

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