A grotty post-office in one ot the mankier London ‘burbs, probably part of a Spa or some such hideous chain.

There is a woman behind the post-office counter. She is just finishing with her last customer. She shuffles on and the next customer comes to the counter. He is a young man in his late teens/early twenties and looks like any slightly scabby bloke his age.

Lady: Hello

Customer: Hi I was just wondering actually if I could have an applictaion for a provisional driver license.

Lady: Very good sir. You’ll need a green XY39C and one of those brown triplicate forms in the PQRS200666 tray.

Customer: I got one of those last time I was here. No my dad says I need a yellow form.

Lady: Oh. One of those.

Customer: Yes.

Pause.

Customer: Can I have one please.

Lady: Well we can only give those out to people with valid ID…

The customer produces valid ID.

Lady: Of two kinds

The customer produces a second ID.

Lady: With photos on.

Customer: That’s my passport.

The Lady checks them out.

Lady: And we also need a proof of address.

Customer produces a bill.

Lady: With you name on it.

Customer pulls out a letter.

Lady: Well that’s all fine then isn’t it. Of course you also need a roasted Icelandic mongoose stuffed with gold dabloons wearing a poncho lined with unicorn hair.

Customer is looking at her in disbelief.

Lady: And of course it had to be vacuum packed.

Lady looks smug. Beat.

Elderly Lady in cue: Here love you can have mine. It was two for one in the Co-op.

Customer takes it gratefully. Lady looks horrified.

Lady: Yes well…

Customer: Can I have my form please.

Lady: Tuh.

She slowly strops out of sight to get it and appears again with a yellow form. Customer picks it up and is just about to go when he notices the form.

Customer: This is to register a change in sex!

Lady: Yuh-huh.

Customer: Look all I want is the bloody yellow form so I can get my license.

Lady: Now look her you young thug there is really no need to swear.

Customer: Wasn’t. Bloody was being used a an adjective…

Manager appears.

Manager: Is there a problem? What seems to be the problem?

Customer: You employee refuses to give me a form.

Manager: What form?

Customer: Yellow one for driving licence.

Manager: Full or provisional?

Customer: provis.

Manager: What this one?

Manager produces the form and holds it up. The Lady covers her eyes and screams, then explodes.

Customer: Bloody hell!

Manager: No need to worry. Really you’d be surprised how debilitating phobia can be-

Customer: Debilitating!?! She-

Manager: No need to worry sir. Happens all the time. (Hands over the form) Have a nice day sir.

Customer staggers off in shock.

Manager: Next.

Elderly lady shuffles forward.

Elderly lady: Morning. ‘Nother one gone, eh?

Manager: Hmmmmm…

Elderly Lady: Oh look! That young man completely forgot his mongoose.