Don't you know who I am....?

Ring ring...   ring ring...

AK: West Kent Campaign Centre, how can I help?

Voice on phone: "Now, listen here. I've received a Christmas card from this chap Toog... Tuugeeeyy....Tug-ind-dat.  Or however he pronounces it. And I wish to send one back. Give me his address would you. 

AK: OK, the fastest way to reach him is via his office in the House of Commons, Do you have a pen and I will give you his address.

"No No No. I don't want to write to the bloody House of Commons and get some slip of a girl reading my message. I want to send it to him at home." 

AK: I am afraid I cannot give his home address.

Why ever not? He does live in the constituency, doesn't he?

AK: Yes, of course. But there are security implications - we live in difficult times

"But don't you know who I am?"

AK: Afraid not, Sir. You didn't tell me.

"I am Fanshawe-Peakes."  (obviously not real name).

AK: Thank you, but I am afraid I don't actually know you and I still cannot give you his home address without his consent. I am sure you understand. 

"What do you mean 'you don't know me'.  I have just informed you who I am.

AK: Indeed, but as we don't know each other, I don't actually know that you are Mr Fanshawe-Peakes. 

"Who the hell do you think I am? The Sultan of Brunei?"

AK: Well, in fairness, if you were trying to find his home address for other motives, you wouldn't phone up and say, "Hello, I am from the Daesh, can I have the MPs home address?"

"Of for Christ's sake, in that case he can stuff his Christmas card. I will save a stamp. No skin off my nose."

Click.