August 12, 2009

"Hello, how can I help you?"

"Hello. Is that the newspaper?"

[Inward groan as I recognise voice]. "Yes. How can I help?"

"I want to reply to a letter in this week's newspaper."

"I see. Well, you have to write in to respond to it, or email if you have access to it."

"But I'm registered disabled."

"I see. Well, perhaps someone can do it for you?"

"But I'm registered disabled."

"I understand, but we don't have an over-the-phone dictation service, unfortunately."

"But I want to respond to this letter about the wheelie bins."

"I see. Which one was that?"

"This Debbie woman, who gets hers cleaned. I used to get my cleaned but they don't come anymore."

"Ah. I think we spoke this time last week, didn't we?"

"Yes."

"And I think I found you the name and number of a wheelie bin cleaning service, did I not?"

"Yes. But no one's rung me back."

"Well, I can't make them do that. Have you tried again?"

"No."

"Perhaps you should try them again?"

"Isn't there another number?"

"That was the only one I could find, and we're not actually a directory enquiries service, I'm afraid."

"What about Debbie? Can't you ask her?"

"I'm afraid I don't have her telephone number. Perhaps you could trying looking on the notice board in your local supermarket or newsagent, or ask people who live locally?"

"But I'm registered disabled."

"Well I'm afraid that's the best I can do."

"But what about my wheelie bin?"

Unsaid, but with blistering thought: Stick it up your fucking arse. Even if you are registered disabled.