Libraries - part 3
We have a local nutter come in by the name of Tracy. She has a problem with banks. I don't mean the staff either - she actually stands out side the bank next door and screams at it. Anyway, one day she decides to pay us a visit and asks to get a library card. We need proof of address to prevent pikeys from nicking all our DVDs and vanishing into the sunset. She tried to use a birth certificate which of course, we couldn't accept, despite her very accurate argument of "well, it proves I exist". Anyway, this refusal sent her into a hellish frenzy of banshee rage, and being the supervisor, I catch her. Figuring that properly, properly crazy people are more concerned with proving they're napoleon and whatnot than being criminals. I give her a card, she suddenly turns into this polite, cordial, well spoken young lady. She thanks me and turns away. I relax, thinking it's all over. Then all of a sudden she wheels around:

"It's coz my dad's dead innit".

Bless em.
(GONEism, Tue 9 Sep 2008, 15:03, Reply)