Today has been one of those days when I have gone from one meeting to the next whilst at the same time trying to manage "a little local difficulty" which is is blowing out of all proportion.
Today's issue resulted in probably 20 hushed phone conversations between the various participants, often conducted in coffee shop lavatories where I assumed I wouldn't be heard. Apart from Finch House where, having told one participant exactly what I thought of the situation, I was then dismayed to see someone coming out of a cubicle - having clearly heard every word. The old man looked at me suspiciously, before saying with a smile, "from what I've just heard I'd chop his balls off too". Oops!
The day then got odder. My next two meetings were with two different ladies who had each been in touch to offer help. Sadly, I had never met either of them before nor had they met me. This resulted in me going up to various single women and asking "hello, are you xxxx". Let me give you some advice - approaching well dressed ladies in suburban Tunbridge Wells and announcing "hello, I am looking for Joy" can attract some strange looks.
When I finally returned to the office Jon was also looking a bit frazzled. Apparently the man who writes to the Party Chairman to complain that I wear suede shoes on a Tuesday had been on the phone, as had the man whose movements are monitored by aliens via a transmitter in his teeth, and the man with an ear trumpet who sits at the back of meetings and complains he cannot hear. "What did they all want", I asked. No idea, said Jon. They all wanted to speak to you so I suggested they call back on Monday.
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