Matthew's Journal

I was feeling a bit grumpy this morning - I'd been to the dentist, which is always uncomfortable (I'm sure the dentist I had when I was small didn't cause as much discomfort), and they took X-rays and said "look, you have at least one wisdom tooth". The receptionist then said that I wouldn't be able to take my records with me to the next dentist I see (who will probably not be in Cambridge, unless I dismally overrun), because that's the law apparantly. My next dentist will be able to ask to borrow the radiographs, maybe, but if I want to take them, they'll charge me £10.

I then took a ride down to Drakes, to pick up a Brompton S-bag for atreic "while I was in town". I put that in quotes, as Drakes really isn't in the city center, particularly given where I live and work; still, I'm happy to help atreic at least occasionally ;-) Anyway, I get there, and the conversation goes something like this:
"Hi, I'm here to collect a Brompton S-bag; I'm emperor, but it's for my wife. She should have told you I was coming"
"OK, I'll go and have a look"
[...assistant vanishes to look for things...]
"Are you sure we said we had one in?"
"Yes, you called us to say so, and she called to check it was OK for me to come and collect it"
[...assistant vanishes again, including checking the window display...]
"Err, she spoke to us this morning, is that right?"
"Yes"
"Err, well, you see, the person she spoke to was confused; we have saddle-bags in, but, err, not the S-bag we said we'd have in."

Grr...