I had to call an official body today in a further attempt to
sort out a problem. It’s one I have every year at this time (April 5th
is the end of the tax year in Britain.)
I’ve been onto them twice already. I’ve sat through the menu
options and irrelevant recorded announcements. I’ve talked to hidebound people
who were less than helpful; and all of this is perfectly normal, I know, in
these increasingly dysfunctional times.
Today I received some mail from them which didn’t solve the
problem, so I steeled myself for a hell of an argument. There would have been
well chosen words, I assure you, but I was still prepared for the unfortunate
fact that even the best of words make little impression on brick walls.
The woman I spoke to had a nice voice. More than that, she was
friendly and seemed clued up. I explained my problem calmly and carefully again,
and guess what. She answered it without difficulty or hesitation. The problem
no longer exists. How often does that happen these days?
I told her she was Blessed Among Women. They weren’t the
exact words I used, but you get the picture. She should be in no doubt that she
has earned the sincere approbation of at least one person today.
And my anger has dwindled. Which is good.
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