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.
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: 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.
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!
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: 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?
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.
Elderly lady shuffles forward.
Elderly lady: Morning. ‘Nother one gone, eh?
Elderly Lady: Oh look! That young man completely forgot his mongoose.