A typical day in the Department. I am up to my elbows in paper. And then, the most unwelcome sound of all.
Extension 666, the direct line to Govstooge, rings.
"Bollocks", I say, before taking a deep breath and adopting my posh professional civil servant voice.
"Good afternoon. Govstooge speaking. How may I help you?"
A faint crackle and the distant sound of the Pussycat Dolls.
I sigh, and try again: "Good afternoon. Govstooge speaking. How may I help you?"
"Can you speak up?" comes the voice at the other line.
I take a deeper breath.
"Govstooge speaking. How may I help you?"
"I still can't hear you."
"CAN I HELP YOU?"
"Ah, that's better. Now just hold on until I turn this radio down."
(Goes off to turn down the radio, which is now blaring Lady GaGa.)
"Jaysus", I say.
People, eh? Hate 'em. Bunch of gits.
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1 comment:
Gaaah!
I remember a similar situation where i was out walking one day and a retired teacher who taught me many moons ago was standing beside her car beckoning frantically at me. Thinking she maybe had a problem with her car door. I crossed the smallish but none the less busy road (the after mass rush as people who have heard the good news at mass rush to read the bad news - sunday newspapers)and stood uneasily there out near the middle of the road as she proceeded to question me about my career, siblings, their careers etc...
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