Driven to protest

Published: 26 November, 2010

• ENVISAGE the scene at the council offices in Upper Street, Islington, at the corner of Laycock Street, the other Wednesday just before 4pm. Seeking to purchase parking permits for my visitors, I saw with joy that all was eerily quiet. 

Not a soul in sight, apart from five council officials, sitting, wandering, chatting – demonstrating their comradely solidarity by uniting in killing time before knocking off at 5.30pm. 

I was given a number (one) to listen out for. I waited to be called. And waited. And waited. 

I returned to reception, asking why my number had not been called. Reception then went to an official (one of two or three) waiting to “serve” the public, that is me, outnumbered by at least five inflation-proofed, pensioned, public sector parasites (ippsps). 

As it so happened, it was the official at desk number one who was deputed to call out my number. She asked me what I wanted. For some 20 minutes or so reception had failed to inform the official what I had come for. 

Astonishment and another ingeniously devised delay while a search for the parking permits was undertaken. Finally, shock and horror as I protested at the performance of the aforesaid ippsps, violating all the sacred rules of political correctness. Clearly, my conduct constituted gross abuse and will warrant psychotherapeutic treatment (in-house or on the NHS?).

PITAO
(Name and address supplied)