Incompetent, Moi?

The post today is interesting, I don't think. Fifty-five letters, and twelve campaign postcards - save trees and/or whales; bring back imperial measures; ban fireworks; introduce a bank holiday for St George's Day; make cycle helmets compulsory; don't make cycle helmets compulsory; and sign the declaration in support of religious broadcasting - together with five one-litre bottles of urine, beautifully packaged but with no return address.

One of the letters is a complaint:

Dear Mr Sinclair
Either you or a member of your staff is incompetent. Today I received the enclosed letter, in which you claim to be responding to my enquiry. I have never contacted you in my life, and would have thought that MPs had better things to do than to waste resources and public funds in replying to non-existent letters.
Yours sincerely
A Gordimer (Mr)


God, I'm infuriated. I might be undervalued and underpaid, but I am not bloody incompetent, and even Greg can handle that sort of thing.

I go straight to the campaign postcards file, find the original card we received from Mr Gordimer  - signed in stupid man's own handwriting - and send him a photocopy with a compliment slip.

Of such small acts of revenge is my working life saved from complete and utter hopelessness. These halfwits will sign anything and then can't even remember what they were supposedly campaigning for.

Mr Gordimer turns out to have been against cats being made into fur coats. So am I, but I'd have no objection to his being made into a nice, lightweight spring jacket.