There it is, said Shalamar as they scoured the High Streets looking for somewhere to stash their top 40 gold. No doubt hunting in vain for a HSBC or Midland bank. This hit from 1978 added to that vast horde of riches.
On a completely unrelated vein, I was embraced by the warm and friendly glow seeping from the local team of phlebotomists at Labtests on Saturday.
As usual I strayed into the corporately fashioned designer interior, imbued with a warm inviting slick gloss of caring responsibility.....but still sterile none the less. I took a seat, then returned it. After a while an exotic voice called me over and directed me to room 4. I followed her orders and took another chair following the man in front of me as I went....
After the by now well rehearsed pleasantries, we settled into our respective roles. For the her, the ever efficient health professional, for me the slightly squeamish and agliophobic customer.
"Can you please confirm your name and date of birth please"
Why yes certainly I can, the sight of impending blood doesn't actually cause my memory to fail.
"And for security reasons, your address"
For security reasons !? Was this in fact the SIS, (New Zealand's top intelligence bureau, with more spooks than a haunted house fair ride)
"Sorry, force of habit, I used to work in a bank" she weakly smiled. More embarrassed perhaps by her past employment in these recession hit times, rather than her slightly foolish mistake?
In a bank? I laughingly retorted....Shall I utilise that obvious pun? Yes let's do it...
Was it a blood bank? Ha! A stunning punning victory for me I think!
"No" she replied, flatly "it was Westpac"
Nothing. No smile, no laugh or wink, no acknowledgment of the recent linguistic tool whatsoever.
I felt like a total clot.
