Paper Cuts

Stack of paper

Hello, you're through to Mike, can I help you? Good grief, that's extraordinary! Yes, yes, why yes - I have had an accident at work. Just a few moments ago, in fact. How could you possibly have known? And yes, it wasn't my fault.

Why this is really quite remarkable! By what I can only assume is some form of preternatural sense you have somehow managed to contact the very person who needs your services the most. I can only gasp in wonderment at this awesome incidence of universe-shaking serendipity.

I reached out for a chocolate bourbon

Yes, I can tell you exactly what happened and I shall endeavour to leave no detail unaccounted for. I was sitting at my desk - this very desk at which I am sitting right now - when I reached out for a chocolate bourbon, a variety of biscuit of which I am inordinately fond.

In the flurry of my hectic activities thus far this working day, some papers had become disordered and it was necessary to move one dangerously sharp sheet aside in order to retrieve my crunchy treat. This I did, and for my trouble I received a small but significant cut to my finger.

That's right, a paper cut.

I fear I may need to take the rest of the day off and already I am beginning to feel weak, but I realised that my first priority was to seek immediate financial redress and so I set about the task of telephoning a suitable legal professional to champion my cause. Unfortunately I had sustained the injury to my dialling finger and was just wondering how I might circumvent this difficulty when you called and, amazingly, solved my dilemma for me.

Now then, I am looking for £20,000 to compensate me for the mental anguish, but I should point out that a small child could very easily have been injured and this, I should imagine, must be worth at least an additional £5K.

This hideous and debilitating wound

It should also be noted that there were no warning signs in the vicinity.

Well, actually that's not strictly true. The piece of paper that caused me this hideous and debilitating wound was in fact a notice cautioning against just such an eventuality - oh the irony - but since the message was printed on the reverse I was unable to heed it until the damage had already been done. Life is indeed cruel and the pitfalls we face on the journey from cradle to crave are many.

So, do you think I have a case?

Well, this is good to hear, but I remain in some apprehension about the course of action which will now ensue. I imagine that you will want to send me some documents - terms and conditions, contracts to sign and the like? I thought as much. You strike me as a very thorough, capable and efficient person and it is only to be expected that you would pursue your duties with the appropriate degree of rigour.

A mortal fear of paper

Unfortunately, I fear this approach to the matter is likely to become problematic, as ever since my recent yet potentially life-changing accident I find that I have a mortal fear of paper. The merest thought of it brings me out in a rash and I doubt very much that I will ever again experience the joy of handling a crisp new letter or a warm, freshly photocopied form.

I would forever be thinking of the consequences.

Today I have suffered a small cut to the finger; tomorrow I could lose an arm or a leg. What would happen if the very paperwork you send me should be the cause of such an accident? You would have blood on your hands - as indeed would I.

Lethal envelope

No, I believe that it would be too much of a risk and I think, on balance, we had better forget the whole thing. I have a particularly lethal envelope to deal with this afternoon and I really need to keep my wits about me.

But please do feel free to call again. There was a man eyeing me up earlier who looks like he might want to sell me an unwanted PPI policy, so there is every chance that I may need your help in future.

Goodbye.

 

 

Taken from The University of the Bleeding Obvious Annual 2017

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