This is Malvern Library. Not it’s best angle but there was a ugly fat man in a HiVis jacket having a fag outside and he had to be put behind the bush. As well as housing books, this lovely building is the home of the JobCentre. I had some business there and an appointment at 2 o’clock. I was trying to wrestle some money from the government which I am perfectly entitled to, as I am not pensionable age, no-one’s fault but their own now they have changed the rules and I have to wait until 65.
It has become apparent that the amount of money you seek in my situation is inversely proportional to the paperwork involved. So I had reams of paper and every certificate known to man for this meagre stipend. I was a little early so I had a cup of hot chocolate from the cafe. Then the nice lady came to find me and I said “can I bring this with me to finish it”.
“Well no,” she said “cups are not allowed on the desk because you might use it as a weapon” when I asked if that happened often she smiled and said “you’d be surprised”. I asked her if she wished to do a body search for knitting needles. Apparently that wasn’t required. I live a sheltered life.
Groovy Word of the day: insurgent