Dear Dennis,
Hi, I trust you and Carol are well. I laid siege to the Benefits Office yesterday and came away with a “Crisis Loan” giro for my efforts. Hoorah! The brunette was mightily impressed with me too! It took a while and I had to prostitute myself and declare undying faithfulness to their cause (depressing any natural feelings of self worth or aspirations of membership of decent society for all who are unfortunate enough to come into contact with them in any way shape or form). They made me sign a piece of paper promising to repay the load at a rate of £11 something each week from my Unemployment giro – I of course pointed out that I don’t actually get an Unemployment giro and that’s why I’d had to go in and beg them for the “Crisis Loan”. The nice lady (had a better moustache than I did) said that was ok and I would have it deducted when I eventually started to get the giros. I again (being a good citizen) pointed out that as I didn’t know how much I might get in Unemployment Benefit, I didn’t know if I could afford the payments from the Benefit. Ms Mustachio sighed and gave me what she thought was a withering look but I’ve seen ‘withering’ and that certainly wasn’t, “if you don’t want the Crisis Loan then don’t sign the sheet”. I signed the sheet, pocketed the giro and hurried away. She yelled “NEXT!” from behind her triple safety glass screen and a drunk was drawing a pencil line around his can of ‘Special Brew’ and handing it to his mate “I know whash in vere” as he slewed up to Ms Mustachio. I though of staying to watch the inevitable spectacle and wondered how the drunk could possibly see through his beer can to tell where to draw the line, but remembered I had to pick up Saul from crèche. Problem sorted? Well, not quite.
It was Sports Day at Charlie’s school today and I was kidnapped and driven to a field under a blazing hot sun and dumped amongst a couple of hundred dashing kids and diazepamed teachers (I’m sure they have their own agenda on days like these). Charlie came running over and I saw his teacher calling him in a resigned and futile way at the far side of the field. She realised the futility and turned to the rest of her class who were looking around for their parents. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your class?” I enquired. “Uh?” came his practised response. I took him back to his class area of the field. Most kids were dressed in T-shirts of their house colours although Cory had clearly told his mum that it was a non-uniform day and so was dressed in camouflaged T-shirt and cut-off trousers and poor Ashing was dressed in “spare sports clothes box” grey as he’d forgotten to tell his mum anything at all. All in all though it was a bright and cheerful morning and I came away (after the brunette had finished her round of chats with all the mums) quite pleased with life. I knew I was going to be kidnapped again as soon as I got into the car so didn’t really complain when the brunette said “lets go to the supermarket”.
After shopping, the brunette stopped the car outside the Post Office and I sped in clutching my giro. I signed the back and pushed it under the glass to Ms Mustachio’s sister. She looked at it and pushed it back. “That’s not our number” she said “Eh?” “There is a number at the top for the Post Office where it can be cashed” “Ok” I thought, then said “Which Post Office can I cash this at?” “I can’t tell you that, you’ll have to ask whoever issued it” and she pressed the button “Cashier number five”, the next person in the queue came up behind me and started tutting. Left in no-mans land with no one to talk to, I went back out to the car and the brunette. Back home I called the Crisis Loan people “you have to talk to your local Benefit Office” “where are you then?” “We are based in Milton Keynes” “But I only got the giro from you yesterday at the local Benefit Office” I pleaded. “No sir, you got it from your local office but we told them to give it to you”. I called the local office. Telephonist told me “I can’t put you through, they are probably at lunch” (it was 11:55am) “you call back after 1:00pm” click brrrr …
I couldn’t believe the whole Benefits Agency goes to lunch at 11:55 in the morning and so I called again at about 12:15. “I can’t put you through as they’re engaged” this was different. Quickly I said, “could you put me through to someone who is available?” “They’re probably at lunch. I don’t know that. I am the receptionist. You are making this difficult for me.” I apologised, quickly said goodbye and hung up not wanting to be marked down as someone who asked awkward questions.
At 1:30 I called back. This time the receptionist gave me the number for the GPO and told me to ring them as “they are in charge of Post Offices”. A nice helpful guy told me the numbers on the top of Social Security giros are from the Benefits Agency and the Post Office doesn’t know anything about them. This left me wondering how on earth Ms Mustachios’ sister at the Post Office I tried to cash it at knew it wasn’t “their number” but I took his word for it and rang the local Benefits Agency once again. This time however (and it was the same lady) I was put through to someone who tried to help. I was left on hold for a short time but she came back with: “you need to come in to the office with two forms of ID and we’ll have a look” “Can you just tell me where I can cash the giro?” I begged. “The giro is for a Crisis Loan and I really need this for my family” “I’m sorry that information is not given out, you’ll have to come in with two forms of ID before we can tell you”.
So, I’ve established several things today:
1. The Benefits Agency all go to lunch at 11:55 until 1:00
2. They don’t like having to answer awkward questions.
3. I must always defer to security guards and anyone who works for the Benefits Agency and I must be grateful for it.
4. You will never get the same answer even if you phone twice in quick succession and speak to the same person
5. They may give you a giro but they won’t tell you where or if you can cash it. (shh it’s a secret)
6. drunks have x-ray vision.
All the best eh?
D.
Hi, I trust you and Carol are well. I laid siege to the Benefits Office yesterday and came away with a “Crisis Loan” giro for my efforts. Hoorah! The brunette was mightily impressed with me too! It took a while and I had to prostitute myself and declare undying faithfulness to their cause (depressing any natural feelings of self worth or aspirations of membership of decent society for all who are unfortunate enough to come into contact with them in any way shape or form). They made me sign a piece of paper promising to repay the load at a rate of £11 something each week from my Unemployment giro – I of course pointed out that I don’t actually get an Unemployment giro and that’s why I’d had to go in and beg them for the “Crisis Loan”. The nice lady (had a better moustache than I did) said that was ok and I would have it deducted when I eventually started to get the giros. I again (being a good citizen) pointed out that as I didn’t know how much I might get in Unemployment Benefit, I didn’t know if I could afford the payments from the Benefit. Ms Mustachio sighed and gave me what she thought was a withering look but I’ve seen ‘withering’ and that certainly wasn’t, “if you don’t want the Crisis Loan then don’t sign the sheet”. I signed the sheet, pocketed the giro and hurried away. She yelled “NEXT!” from behind her triple safety glass screen and a drunk was drawing a pencil line around his can of ‘Special Brew’ and handing it to his mate “I know whash in vere” as he slewed up to Ms Mustachio. I though of staying to watch the inevitable spectacle and wondered how the drunk could possibly see through his beer can to tell where to draw the line, but remembered I had to pick up Saul from crèche. Problem sorted? Well, not quite.
It was Sports Day at Charlie’s school today and I was kidnapped and driven to a field under a blazing hot sun and dumped amongst a couple of hundred dashing kids and diazepamed teachers (I’m sure they have their own agenda on days like these). Charlie came running over and I saw his teacher calling him in a resigned and futile way at the far side of the field. She realised the futility and turned to the rest of her class who were looking around for their parents. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your class?” I enquired. “Uh?” came his practised response. I took him back to his class area of the field. Most kids were dressed in T-shirts of their house colours although Cory had clearly told his mum that it was a non-uniform day and so was dressed in camouflaged T-shirt and cut-off trousers and poor Ashing was dressed in “spare sports clothes box” grey as he’d forgotten to tell his mum anything at all. All in all though it was a bright and cheerful morning and I came away (after the brunette had finished her round of chats with all the mums) quite pleased with life. I knew I was going to be kidnapped again as soon as I got into the car so didn’t really complain when the brunette said “lets go to the supermarket”.
After shopping, the brunette stopped the car outside the Post Office and I sped in clutching my giro. I signed the back and pushed it under the glass to Ms Mustachio’s sister. She looked at it and pushed it back. “That’s not our number” she said “Eh?” “There is a number at the top for the Post Office where it can be cashed” “Ok” I thought, then said “Which Post Office can I cash this at?” “I can’t tell you that, you’ll have to ask whoever issued it” and she pressed the button “Cashier number five”, the next person in the queue came up behind me and started tutting. Left in no-mans land with no one to talk to, I went back out to the car and the brunette. Back home I called the Crisis Loan people “you have to talk to your local Benefit Office” “where are you then?” “We are based in Milton Keynes” “But I only got the giro from you yesterday at the local Benefit Office” I pleaded. “No sir, you got it from your local office but we told them to give it to you”. I called the local office. Telephonist told me “I can’t put you through, they are probably at lunch” (it was 11:55am) “you call back after 1:00pm” click brrrr …
I couldn’t believe the whole Benefits Agency goes to lunch at 11:55 in the morning and so I called again at about 12:15. “I can’t put you through as they’re engaged” this was different. Quickly I said, “could you put me through to someone who is available?” “They’re probably at lunch. I don’t know that. I am the receptionist. You are making this difficult for me.” I apologised, quickly said goodbye and hung up not wanting to be marked down as someone who asked awkward questions.
At 1:30 I called back. This time the receptionist gave me the number for the GPO and told me to ring them as “they are in charge of Post Offices”. A nice helpful guy told me the numbers on the top of Social Security giros are from the Benefits Agency and the Post Office doesn’t know anything about them. This left me wondering how on earth Ms Mustachios’ sister at the Post Office I tried to cash it at knew it wasn’t “their number” but I took his word for it and rang the local Benefits Agency once again. This time however (and it was the same lady) I was put through to someone who tried to help. I was left on hold for a short time but she came back with: “you need to come in to the office with two forms of ID and we’ll have a look” “Can you just tell me where I can cash the giro?” I begged. “The giro is for a Crisis Loan and I really need this for my family” “I’m sorry that information is not given out, you’ll have to come in with two forms of ID before we can tell you”.
So, I’ve established several things today:
1. The Benefits Agency all go to lunch at 11:55 until 1:00
2. They don’t like having to answer awkward questions.
3. I must always defer to security guards and anyone who works for the Benefits Agency and I must be grateful for it.
4. You will never get the same answer even if you phone twice in quick succession and speak to the same person
5. They may give you a giro but they won’t tell you where or if you can cash it. (shh it’s a secret)
6. drunks have x-ray vision.
All the best eh?
D.
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