Inanities of modern life: the doctors’ surgery

8 a.m. and I’m at the GP’s. You can only book for appointments on the day you need to see the doctor. My usual tactic is to arrive as the surgery opens and grab an 8.05 appointment before the hordes of desperadoes ringing the surgery claim the early slots.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes. I’d like the earliest possible appointment with any doctor, please.”
“I’m afraid we’re only accepting telephone appointments sir.”
“But I’m right here.”
“Sorry, but we can only make an appointment if you phone us.”
I take five steps back, take out my mobile and ring the surgery.
The receptionist right in front of me picks up the phone.
“Titsup Surgery. How can I help you?”
“Hello. I’d like the earliest possible appointment with any doctor, please.”
“Can you be here by 8.10?”
“Definitely.”
“And what’s your name sir?”
“Mister F N Chimps.”
“And the nature of the appointment?”
“Illness, with a variable probability of death, dependent upon my current blood pressure.”
“Oh, er, OK. So you’ll be here at 8.10?”
“Yes, hold on a minute while I get a pen and write that down.”
I step forward to the receptionist and whisper to her (because she has the phone handset to her ear). “Can I borrow your pen please?” She mouths “OK” and hands me a biro.
“Hello, I have a pen. What time am I supposed to be there again?”
“8.10 Mister Chimps, but you only have a few minutes to get here now.”
“I’ll be there. I’m just writing the time down on my hand so I don’t forget. See you in a minute. Oh, and by the way – thanks for the pen.”
I return the pen.