Three "what the fuck are you looking ats?", two kicks to the back of the ankle, and a slightly unnerving "I see you in the fucking street pal, I see you anywhere at all, I'm gonna fucking slash you."

That's what I had to endure inundoubtably the scariest queue in the world: the 'personal issue' queue at Hastings jobcentre.

There were three fights for instance, with a bloke being kicked in the head at one point. Blood, crunching, everything. But I survived the experience intact and I finally got my replacement giro.

Forty-two pounds forty.

Hoorah.

Rich again.

Duncan

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