At the Lost Property Office (London)

Received a printed post card from the Lost Property Office on Baker Street (world famous for Sherlock Holmes), telling me they might have something that belonged to me.  Funny, I didn’t remember losing anything.

I duly went along and this is the (politely-conducted throughout) conversation that ensued:

Me:  Hi.  You’ve sent me a post card saying you have an item that belongs to me.

LPO:  What have you lost?

Me:  I don’t know.  I didn’t know I’d lost anything until I got this card from you.

LPO:  We can’t hand over the item unless you can tell us what it is.

Me:  But, like I said, I didn’t know I’d lost anything until I received this notification from you, so I can’t tell you what I don’t know I might’ve lost.

LPO:  But we can’t just give it to you.  We need you to identify it.

Me:  Well, I can’t identify something I never knew I’d lost.

LPO:  (Looking at her records and trying to be helpful)  Maybe you can tell us roughly what category it might be.

Me:  I can’t.  I have absolutely no idea what it might be.

LPO:  (Trying to get rid of the item)  OK.  Did you lose, perhaps say, a bag?

Me:  No, not to my knowledge.

LPO:  A black bag??

Me:  I have a black bag at home which I don’t use.  I use this blue rucksack.  What makes you think it’s mine anyway?  How did you come to be writing to me about it?

LPO:  Because your name and address are inside, on a gas bill.

Me:  (Seriously worried now)  I’ve lost a gas bill and I didn’t even know about it?!?  Can you show me the gas bill.  I can’t believe I’ve lost a gas bill without knowing it.

LPO:  (Looking in the bag.)  Ah, I see that it’s not your gas bill, but your name and address are hand-written on the gas bill.

Me:  This is even more worrying now.  Whose gas bill is it?  Why would my name and address be on it?  Where did you find the bag anyway?

LPO:  It was found on the Tube.

Me:  I don’t use the Tube.

LPO:  Can you tell us what might be in the bag, just to identify the contents?

Me:  I don’t know. I’m a teacher, so I’d normally carry books, dictionaries and students’ homework in my bag.

LPO:  Aha!  Now we’re getting somewhere.  What kind of books?

Me:  I’m a Chinese teacher, so it’d be Chinese books.

LPO:  Japanese?

Me:  Well, I do know some Japanese, but I wouldn’t be carrying a Japanese book around.

LPO:  (Went off to consult her line manager, maybe to see if she could let me off on a linguistic technicality here.  Japanese, Chinese — they’re all the same, aren’t they??)

(Line Manager then entered the fray.)

LM:  Can you tell us why you’ve got men’s clothing in your bag?

This is getting more and more bizarre!!

Me:  I have no idea!  (I was now seriously getting freaked out.)  (Then a quick flash.)  Ah, wait a minute.  Is the name on the gas bill Kerry M…?  He’s a student of mine, and has been learning Japanese.

They went through the contents and found that it was indeed Kerry’s gas bill.  He was an electrical engineer who worked on construction sites, which would explain the men’s work clothes.  Mystery solved.  Phew!  One of the most surrealistic conversations I’d ever been drawn into, I can tell you.

(More to come on his bus journeys, in another blog.)

(London, 2004)