Day off, and having just been out to get milk I am reclining on the sofa pretending to watch PMQ, although actually I'm reading. Phone rings. Against my better judgement I answer it, because while it's 99% likely to be a telemarketer, there's a 1% chance it might be someone I actually want to talk to.
Her: Hello, is that Mrs Fishwife?
Her: This is the West London Carpet Cleaning Company - do you need any carpets or upholstery cleaning?
Me: No, thank you.
Her: Thank you for your time.
Me: Not at all.
WHY CAN'T IT ALWAYS BE LIKE THAT??????
I'm now starting to think I may have imagined it.
In a similar vein, I went to the bank with a Canadian bank draft (long story) to deposit - I took NOT ONLY my passport BUT ALSO my marriage certificate as the draft was made out to my maiden name. After several depressing attempts at this in the past ("Canadian dollars? I din know they had dollars!"), I was all prepared to argue the point that YES it was dated August 09 but NO it hadn't expired as it was a draft, see, it says draft here, not a cheque, and drafts don't expire, yes, that is me, here's my passport, blardy bla bla.
Lovely young Mr Gandhi of the Banco de Abbey Santander Nacionalista de Londres took one look, filled out a form, took two photocopies, et voila.
I am now back on the sofa dazedly watching something or other and wondering if I went to sleep last night and woke up in a parallel universe where everybody is helpful, efficient and polite. Obviously I will now have jinxed it, and Mr Ocado ("he will be delivering in the Courgette Van!!!") will spill a full bottle of fabric conditioner on the carpet and tread some cat food into it, snarl, punch me and steal the TV. Oh well.
An update: AND AND AND Mr Ocado was an hour early!!!!!! And (of course) charming. Although I'm always slightly disappointed that the Courgette Van (or Lemon, or Strawberry) isn't actually shaped like any of those things. Can't have everything...