I weep for old people, or at least I do now.

I have just invoiced a service for a vehicle. Once I’d finished I, like I do every time, called the customer to let them know their car is ready to be picked up. The conversation went like this…….

Me: Good afternoon, may I speak to Mrs. *****.

Customer: Yes. Speaking.

M: Oh, hi. Its Chris here calling from Cli….

C: Chris who?

M: Urm, Chris…from the garage.

C: What garage?

M: Clis….

C: I don’t know a Chris.

M: CLISTANDRATTLEGARAGE..we have your car.

C: My car?

M: Yes, your Fabia. It came in for a service this morning?

C: Did it? Are you sure?

M: Urm, yeah. Its ready now.

C: But our car is here…

M: I assure you, it’s not. The keys are on my desk.

C: Oh.

Muffled conversation in the background, consisting of raised voices. The husband comes to the phone.

C: Who’s this.

M: Chris. At the garage. I have your car.

C: No, I’m afraid you don’t.

M: No, really. I do. I’m holding the keys.

C: Hmmm, and your sure its our car?

M: Yes. Skoda Fabia, registration is MV*****. It’s Silver.

C: Ohhhhhh, that’s the wife’s car…do you want to speak to her?

M: No, its okaythecar’sreadytobepickedup….

Sweet Jesus. How dim do you have to be to forget where your car is?

When I get old, shoot me.