I've just got back from signing on, and what a pain in the arse it was. My game of Dole Lotto went wrong and I ended up getting signed again by the bastard woman with the sideburns (Gestapo rating: 9 out of 10) - the one who always disappears out back for about 20 minutes and then gives you a severe grilling on her return.

And today she had plenty of grist for her mill, thanks to the extra cash claim form I sent them... in which I suggested that I should be paid the same amount of money that Enya earns...

Woman: (Checking monitor then staring at me). It says here that you've applied for an extra hundred thousand pounds a week.
Me: Ah, yes. Um, actually it wasn't quite that much.
Woman: (Checking monitor again). £99,978.80
Me: Er, yes.
Woman: Is that some kind of joke?
Me: Well, yes, obviously. I was just trying to make a point.
Woman: Which was what exactly?
Me: Erm... that, um, Enya should, erm, sort of give her money to, er, me. It's hard to explain...
Woman: I expect it is. I see you're currently on Hardship Benefit.
Me: Um, yes.
Woman: For the next six months.
Me: Yes.
Woman: Your application for £100,000 is currently being processed at our Chichester office, and I've got a note on my computer asking me to inform you that we'll be calling you in at a future date to discuss it at length. Sign here.

As I was leaving - pretty annoyed with myself and going through all the things I should have said, not that there'd have been much point - I noticed that her next signer had HATE tattoed across his neck, no teeth, was holding a half empty three litre bottle of Mega White cider, and was growling.

Respect.

Duncan

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