I phone the dental surgery.
Me: "Hi, I'm ringing about my 4.45 appointment today with Dr Da Silva. How much will it cost?"
That's Cristiano Ronaldo look-a-like Dr Da Silva. He's very popular.
Receptionist: "Your name, sir?"
Me: "Coleman. It's Coleman."
Receptionist: "I'll just look it up. Bear with me."
This is too good a chance to miss.
Me: "What are its teeth like?"
Receptionist: "What? I beg your pardon?"
Me: "The bear. The one that's with you."
Reception: "That's not what I meant."
Me: "It had better be gone by quarter-to-five."
Receptionist: "£48. Goodbye."
Good thing the appointment wasn't at two-thirty, there would have been hell to pay. I am SO juvenile.
I arrive in good time to find that the bear is gone. There is - however - a pungent smell coming from the nearby wooded area. Another of life's great mysteries answered.
Readers may
be intrigued by the road sign in the picture accompanying this item
directing drivers to "Pyestock". Try to imagine my disappointment when I
discovered that is was not a pie-related benefit concert.
2 comments:
I was particularly keen on that programme last night which explained the economic theories of various European governments with a demonstration of eating pie.
That dentist shop looks like it is smiling.
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