Almost caused a riot in the waiting room. You know, as you do.
I noticed a sign that said that the surgery's phone number was changing to an 0844 number. You know, for our convenience. No mention of how much it would now cost to call from now on, but I knew this meant that instead of getting an engaged tone, we'd now be put on hold while they made a few pennies a minute from our call.
It cunningly used the term "lo-call" a few times (do you see what they did there? genius...)
So, I stood up and asked the receptionist loudly and clearly how much the new toll-line would cost to call.
You could hear a fucking pin drop as the (quite full) waiting room's ears pricked up.
Grumpy Old Indian Lady (which I think you'll find is her given name) informed me in a crisply enunciated oration the exact cost of a call and the many and numerous benefits conferred upon the practice's much-valued patients.
Of course she didn't. She mumbled something about "from head office". I said that this didn't answer my question. I got some pained expressions, and a shake of the head with a 'no' attached. "Do you not think you ought to find out? Or at least mention this to someone? Apparently, everyone in this room thinks you should." (they sounded like they did).
Anyway, I got much more than I'd anticipated when I sat down. The room was buzzing with "shouldn't be allowed!" and "the liberty!"-type talk and to my delight and horror, a clearly excellent quality Mental leapt up and started shouting about how The Bastards had rinsed out his phone credit to the tune of six quid in a few minutes when he called another similar number recently.
I tried briefly to explain to him that mobiles are even worse because they can dictate how much comedy numbers cost, but he was clearly enjoying his Mental and I saw no reason not to sit back and do the same.
Fairly rapidly, the receptionist got into a bit of a shout with him and (bless her) used her powers of Repeating the Same Concept Until the Other Person Shuts Up to secure his quiescence. Demonstrating, too, that she was perfectly capable of communication when the situation demanded it.
"Would you like to discuss that outside?"
"What? It's a fucking disgrace!"
"Yes, but would you like to discuss that outside, this is a waiting room."
"Why? Aren't I allowed to talk here?"
"This is a waiting room."
"I know where I fucking am, love, I'm not down the fucking market now, am I?"
"Would you like to discuss that outside? This is a waiting room."
"Oh, for fuck's sake."
Cheered me up substantially, I can tell you.