Overheard in the living room.
Hay: "You should make yourself known to science. I'm convinced you're the closest, living relative to homo sapiens."
She can be cruel.
I had occasion to call two of my pension providers last week due to them not being quick enough to process authorisation letters for my financial advisor to act on my behalf.
Hay: "You should make yourself known to science. I'm convinced you're the closest, living relative to homo sapiens."
She can be cruel.
I had occasion to call two of my pension providers last week due to them not being quick enough to process authorisation letters for my financial advisor to act on my behalf.
I have come to the conclusion that they have employed a psychologist in the design of their help line. On initially calling and being held in the inevitable queue, some rather jaunty muzak was piped to me. Once someone has answered the call and realised it was a complaint, the next 'on hold' session changed to some soothing classical music to calm me down, and it worked.
Queues cause anger. The CEO of Heathrow said yesterday: “Just one jumbo jet would require a queue a kilometre long.” A jumbo jet has, on average, 366 passengers. Assuming a 2m separation between passengers in a queue, that equates to a queue of 732m - well short of a kilometre. That also assumes a full jumbo jet, with bugger all separation between passengers. At a minimum you'd expect a jumbo to be half full, which equates to a queue of 366m in length. 1,000 / 366 is 2.7m between passengers in a queue comprising a full jumbo.
Had occasion to go to the Post Office yesterday to drop off a pre-paid parcel for Hay. Just as I arrived, blokey managing the queue asked the reason for my visit and I told him it was just do drop off a pre-paid. He offered to take it in for me, but asked if I could stop anyone joining the queue while he was getting my receipt, as the Post Office was about to close. He disappeared inside and, right on cue, one of Yate's finest (fat lady in a shell suit, smoking a fag) attempted to join the queue. I told her that the PO was closing and no-one else was to join it, whereupon she told me in no uncertain terms that I was a effing Hitler and who did I effing think I was. Blokey then emerged from the PO and handed me my receipt and advised said 'lady' that she would have to return tomorrow. She went puce.
Had occasion to go to the Post Office yesterday to drop off a pre-paid parcel for Hay. Just as I arrived, blokey managing the queue asked the reason for my visit and I told him it was just do drop off a pre-paid. He offered to take it in for me, but asked if I could stop anyone joining the queue while he was getting my receipt, as the Post Office was about to close. He disappeared inside and, right on cue, one of Yate's finest (fat lady in a shell suit, smoking a fag) attempted to join the queue. I told her that the PO was closing and no-one else was to join it, whereupon she told me in no uncertain terms that I was a effing Hitler and who did I effing think I was. Blokey then emerged from the PO and handed me my receipt and advised said 'lady' that she would have to return tomorrow. She went puce.
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