A chap's just popped into Milkbeck Library to apologise for his behaviour this morning. This morning's conversation with Molly went like this:
"Can I help you?"
"I'm ordering some things on the internet and they're asking me for an email address. Can I have yours?"
"You don't want to give them ours. They want your email address so that they can send you a receipt and if anything goes wrong you've got something to work from."
"No, I want to give them your email address."
"Honestly, you have to give them your address."
"I don't have an email address, I don't hold with them. I don't trust computers, people get all your details and pretend that they're you. That's why I shred everything at home." [Bear in mind that he's paying for this online order with his credit card!]
"Well, I'm not letting you have our email address."
"I'm not going to do anything untoward with it. I'm just ordering some underpants from a shop in Manchester."
"You're not having our email address."
Exit customer in high dudgeon. Anyway, he cam back to apologise:
"I'm really sorry about my behaviour this morning. I lost my rag for no good reason. I think you misunderstood what I was asking for. Can I have your email address..."
Molly reckons they'll be seeing him again. I told her to give him the Chief Exec's email address.