Bizarre conversations with the council part 27b

[venta]

I just rang up Oxford city council to get us a new green-box to put the recycling in; ours has taken itself off somewhere on its own business.

So, the nice lady asked me for my postcode. I try to be helpful[*], so I spelt out the postcode in an O-for-Orange kind of way.

The following ensued:

Me: E for elephant.
NiceLady: Is that elephant or alephant ?
Me <too confused to answer sensibly>: Yes.
NiceLady: OK, elephant. What house number ?

Just.... eh?

[*]Yes, really. Sometimes I do.

Comments

[addedentry.livejournal.com]

Since moving house I've been trying to find the safest way to get the address across a telephone. You can try too hard, as I found when ringing the ICA box office:

'Piano Studios.'
'Which studios?'
'Piano. Like the instrument.'
'Piana? What's a piana? I've never heard of that fucking instrument ... Oops, good thing this isn't being recorded or I'd have lost my job.'