Mystery of the Handbag

After years and years of trying to avoid the subject, I am now doing a Customer Service NVQ. Obviously I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing if I actually had to deal with customers face to face, but now that I only have to communicate with them on the phone or via e-mail it has taken on the character of a purely theoretical qualification, like a PhD in Ancient Greek Philosophy.

The qualification will enable us to speak in 'customer service language', which I like to imagine is an actual language, possibly consisting not of words but of soothing noises (perhaps resembling whale song) which can be used to lull the customer into a blissful state in which they will be happy to tolerate any outrage.

Before we could embark on this, however, we had to prove our worth by doing a literacy and a numeracy test. The workbooks confronted you every now and again with a page that asked you if you were 'happy to carry on' and advised you to tell the assessor if you weren't. Of course this was meant to be reassuring, but in fact the effect was alarming, like in a horror film - dare you continue into the haunted room? - and it made you feel like breaking the studious silence by wailing: 'I can't go on!'

In fact, the silence was maintained, and we all did very well. Although at one point a child's voice was heard issuing from a woman's handbag. 'It's my daughter', explained the woman, and reached into her handbag. Presently, the sound stopped.