. . . the King's Lynn Arts Centre yesterday to tell them I couldn't collect the three pictures they unaccountably didn't select for this year's Eastern Open until later in the week, a plum-voiced woman said crossly 'We are trying to hang an exhibition here, you know'.
(Well, yes. That's why I thought I'd apologise for not removing the offending items on the designated date, you bat.)
She did eventually deign to suggest that she might leave a message explaining that I would collect my pieces on Thursday, but only after I'd told her my name.
No, I don't know why my having a name should make a difference either.
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