I went to
the dry cleaners. The assistant said, “Can I take your name.”
I hesitated
and then replied, “Well, not really. I need it.”
She looked
up from the PC screen. “I meant, so I can look you up.”
“Oh, I see,” I said. I gave her my surname.
“Sydney Road,” she said, after a few seconds.
“What about him?” I said.
“Uh… sorry. I meant your address. That’s where
you – ”
“Live.
Yeah. It is.”
She tapped in some more ‘stuff.’ It took a
while. Perhaps there was a ‘comments’ box. Then she said, “Monday lunchtime?”
“That’s really thoughtful,” I said. “But, uh…
look, I hardly know you.”
She
frowned. “Sorry… I mean your dry cleaning will be ready then. Is that okay?”
I nodded.
I’m not going there again; well, except for
Monday lunchtime. Too many bloody questions!
